B    4     104     S4b 


..:;     •< 


•>,-;> 

K>  ;  •• 


• 


BURNING  OF  THE  GREAT  HOTEL. 


THE 


BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY; 


OK,  THE 


GREAT  HOTEL  SPECULATION. 


T.  S.  ARTHUR, 

AUTUOE  0?   "  TEN  NIGHTS  IN  A  BAR-ROOM,"  *0. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
PORTER    &    COATES, 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1877,  by 

POUTER  &  COATES, 
in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


l337 
77 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE 

Fountain  Inn j 

CHAPTER  II. 

Enemy  Foiled      ....  -9  2 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Enemy  in  Council 43 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Great  Hotel  Project ni 

CHAPTER  V. 

Hyer  Opens  a  Saloon  .         .         .         .         .02 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A  Gala-day  in  Brantly 1 1  $ 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  New  Hotel  not  a  Success       .         ,         .         .134 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Bitter  Fruit        .         .         .         .         .         .         .156 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Reaction .178 

CHAPTER  X. 

Loss  and  Gain 198 

M119131  (T) 


yi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XL  PAGE 

Marie's  Wedding 221 

CHAPTER  XII. 

More  Bitter  Fruit        ...  .     245 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Fire 270 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  Movement  Against  the  Enemy         .         .         .285 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Enemy  Gaining  Strength      ....     304 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Blight  on  Brantly        .  •     323 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Retribution 35 2 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Brantly  Aroused 3^7 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Enemy  Cast  Out 39° 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Brantly  Redeemed      .  •  •     4° 5 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Conclusion •     432 


THE 

BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY; 

OR, 

THE  GREAT  HOTEL  SPECULATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TPIE    FOUNTAIN    INN. 

Tj^OR  over  ten  years  there  had  not  been  in 
Brantly  a  single  public  house  in  which 
liquor  was  sold.  The  town  lay  stretched  along 
the  Bedford  turnpike,  its  neat  white  houses,  with 
their  green  latticed  blinds,  and  gardens  filled 
with  shrubbery  and  flowers,  presenting  an  aspect 
of  thrift  and  comfort.  There  were  a  tannery,  a 
saw-mill,  a  large  shoe  manufactory,  and  an  estab 
lishment  for  canning  the  fine  fruits  and  vege 
tables  with  which  the  fertile  neighborhood 
abounded.  Other  industries  added  their  mea 
sure  of  prosperity  to  the  pleasant  town. 

(7) 


THE    BAR- BOOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

There  being  considerable  travel  along  the 
Bedford  'pike,  a  public  house  was  as  necessary 
to  the  town  as  a  post-office  or  blacksmith's  shop, 
and  in  consequence  there  had  always  been  a 
tavern  in  Brantly.  But  as  the  keeper  of  this 
house  for  the  past  ten  years,  a  well-to-do  farmer 
named  Jacob  Grover,  entertained  a  wholesome 
regard  for  the  well-being  and  well-doing  of  his 
neighbors,  and  honestly  believed  that  drinking 
liquor  was  not  only  a  useless,  but  a  very  hurtful 
custom,  no  bar  had  been  permitted  at  the  "  Foun 
tain  Inn."  Of  course  many  of  those  who  passed 
through  Brantly,  and  were  compelled  to  stay  at 
Graver's,  grumbled  when  liquor  was  denied,  but 
as  the  landlord  was  a  pleasant,  good-humored 
man,  with  plenty  of  excellent  cheer  to  offer,  he 
had  little  trouble  in  reconciling  his  guests  to  the 
privation.  Indeed,  spite  of  this  lack  of  a  bar, 
the  "  Fountain  Inn,"  was  the  favorite  tavern  on 
the  Bedford  road. 

Many  efforts  had  been  made  to  induce  Jacob 
Grover  to  dispense  liquor  to  his  guests,  some- 


THE    FOUNTAIN   INN.  9 

times  enforced  by  threats  of  opening  a  new  tav 
ern ;  but  he  was  not  to  be  moved.  He  had  set 
his  -foot  down  on  that  question,  and  no  influ 
ence  was  strong  enough  to  induce  him  to  take 
it  up. 

Neither  the  county  jail  nor  the  almshouse 
could  point  to  a  single  inmate  from  Brantly,  a 
fact  that  Jacob  Grover  rarely  failed  to  use  in  the 
occasional  arguments  on  the  topic  of  liquor-sell 
ing  which  came  up  between  him  and  some  of  the 
people  who  made  his  house  their  stopping  place. 

One  day  there  alighted  from  the  stage-coach, 
a  man  wearing  a  profusion  of  gold  chains,  dia 
mond  rings  and  studs.  He  carried  his  head  rather 
high,  and  had  an  air  of  vulgar  importance.  It 
was  a  cold,  crisp  day  in  November,  and  as  he 
came  into  the  office,  with  a  breezy  air  and  a 
stamping  tread,  he  cried  out  in  a  voice  that  had 
in  it  more  of  command  than  request, 

"  A  whiskey  punch,  hot  and  strong,  and  be 
quick  about  it,  landlord !  I'm  ice  to  the  very 
bones !" 


10  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

Now,  Jacob  Grover  was  an  independent  sort 
of  a  man,  with  all  his  good  humor,  and  never 
took  any  nonsense  from  his  guests.  To  the 
courteous,  he  was  courtesy  itself;  but  the  rude 
and  aggressive  met  with  little  favor  or  forbear 
ance. 

"  We  don't  have  any  whiskey  punches  here, 
my  friend,"  he  answered,  a  slight  ripple  of  dis 
turbance  in  his  voice. 

"  You  don't !"  The  man's  small  gray  eyes 
dilated,  and  the  arch  of  his  thin  eyebrows  bent 
strongly  upward.  "  And  pray,  what  have  you 
then  ?" 

"  Good,  strong  coffee,  smoking  hot,"  returned 
the  landlord,  his  voice  steadier  than  when  he 
last  spoke. 

"  Oh !  oh !  You  keep  a  temperance  house. 
That's  it !"  There  was  an  expression  of  disgust 
on  the  stranger's  face. 

"  Yes,  that's  just  it,"  answered  Grover,  coolly, 
his  large,  steady  eyes  settling  themselves  upon 
his  guest. 


THE   FOUNTAIN   INN.  11 

"  Faugh  !  It  won't  suit  me,  then.  I'll  go  to 
the  other  house." 

"  All  right,  my  friend.  This  is  a  free  country," 
said  the  landlord,  as  the  traveller  turned  away, 
looking  angry  and  annoyed.  "If  you  don't  find 
yourself  suited  at  the  other  house,"  he  added, 
with  a  grim  humor  in  his  tone,  just  come  back 
here,  and  we'll  do  the  best  for  you  we  can,  sav 
ing  the  hot  whiskey  punch.'* 

An  oath  and  a  growl  were  the  only  response 
as  the  unhappy  stranger  went  striding  out  of  the 
room. 

"  Where's  the  other  tavern  ?"  he  asked,  roughly, 
of  the  stage-driver,  who  had  just  mounted  his 
box  and  was  getting  up  the  reins- 

"  Five  miles  ahead,  at  Watertown,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  No,  no !  I  don't  mean  that.  The  other 
tavern  in  Brantly,"  said  the  man  impatiently. 

"  There  is  no  other  tavern  in  Brantly,"  replied 
the  driver. 

"What!" 


12  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  It's  just  as  I  tell  you.  And  if  you'r  going  to 
stop  here,  it's  your  only  chance ;  and  a  mighty 
good  chance  at  that,  if  you  did  but  know  it— a 
chance  that  people  who  travel  on  this  road  don't 
get  twice  along  the  line." 

"A  cursed,  one-horse  place!"  muttered  the 
traveller,  as  he  turned  from  the  driver,  who 
threw  his  long  whip-lash  .out  into  the  air,  and 
then  drew  it  in  with  a  crack  like  that  of  a  pistol, 
his  horses  springing  away  at  the  sound. 

Jacob  Grover  stood  calmly  in  the  door  as  the 
stranger,  with  knit  brows  and  a  curling  lip, 
jerked  himself  around  and  confronted  him. 

"  Hobson's  choice,  I  find."  His  manner  was 
as  offensive  as  his  words. 

He  made  a  movement  to  enter,  but  the  tav- 
ernkeeper's  sturdy  frame  blocked  up  the  door. 

"  Look  here,  sir,  I'm  not  going  to  stand  any 
nonsense  !"  broke  out  the  irritated  stranger,  his 
face  growing  fiery  red. 

"  You  won't  have  any  of  that  sort  of  thing  to 
stand  at  Grover's,"  replied  the  landlord,  not  mov- 


THE   FOUNTAIN    INN.  13 

ing  from  his  position ;  "  we  deal  in  good  hard 
sense.  And  now,  my  friend,  what  is  it  you 
want?" 

Even  a  savage  dog  knows  the  eye  of  a  brave 
and  fearless  man,  and  cowers  beneath  its  steady 
gaze.  So  cowered  this  excited  stranger. 

"  You  keep  a  public  house,"  said  he,  fretfully, 
but  in  a  more  respectful  tone. 

« I  do." 

"  Can  I  get  a  room  for  a  day  or  so  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  put  up  with  our  accommoda 
tions,  and  at  the  same  time  act  in  a  becoming 
manner.  We  will  do  the  best  for  you  we  can,  but 
you  must  conduct  yourself  like  a  gentleman." 

The  man's  little  gray  eyes  shot  out  an  angry 
gleam;  but  a  depressing  sense  of  his  inferiority 
to  the  stalwart,  self-poised  landlord,  and  of  his 
present  dependence  on  his  favor,  made  him 
repress  all  further  signs  of  irritation. 

G  rover  moved  back  from  the  door  and  the 
stranger  entered.  He  registered  his  name  as 
Andrew  Hyer,  New  York. 


14  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  I  can  have  a  fire  in  my  room,  I  suppose," 
he  remarked,  as  he  put  his  fingers  to  his  mouth 
and  breathed  on  them. 

"  Certainly,"  and  Grover  rang  a  bell ;  "  we'll 
warm  you  up  in  a  good  Christian  way,  and  you'll 
feel  all  the  better  for  it." 

A  waiter  came  in  answer  to  the  bell.  "  Make 
a  fire  in  Number  10  right  away,  Tom." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  and  the  man  disappeared. 

"Walk  into  the  parlor,  sir.  You'll  find  it 
warm  there ;  and  as  soon  as  your  room  is  ready 
we'll  let  you  know." 

With  a  half  sulky  manner  the  stranger  with 
drew  to  the  parlor,  and  seated  himself  before  a 
grate  in  which  a  fire  was  burning.  There  was 
another  inmate  of  the  room,  an  elderly  gentle 
man  who  sat  near  one  of  the  windows  reading  a 
newspaper.  As  the  new  comer  entered,  this 
person  lifted  his  eyes  and  looked  at  him  over  his 
spectacles,  curiously. 

"  A  miserable  one-horse  place!"  grumbled  the 
stranger. 


THE   FOUNTAIN   INN.  15 

"  What  did  you  remark,  sir  ?"  inquired  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  I  remarked,  that  this  was  a  miserable  one- 
horse  place,"  responded  the  stranger,  with  an 
emphasis  on  every  word. 

"  Do  you  mean  the  town  or  the  tavern  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  the  town ;  but 
if  your  tavern  is  a  sample  brick,  I  wouldn't  give 
much  for  the  town." 

"  We  Brantly  folks  set  considerable  store  by 
our  tavern,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  You  do !"  and  the  stranger  gave  a  little  de 
risive  laugh,  at  which  the  old  gentleman  dropped 
his  newspaper,  and  rising  from  his  chair,  walked 
slowly  across  the  room,  with  his  hands  behind 
him.  On  reaching  the  grate  he  turned  his  back 
to  the  fire,  and  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  before 
speaking.  Then  he  said  : 

"  What's  wrong  about  the  tavern,  my  friend  ?" 

"  Can  you  get  a  drink  if  you  want  it  ?  A 
public  house !  Faugh  !" 

"  Oh,  that's   your  trouble !  I  see."     A  smile 


16  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT   BRANTLY. 

lit  the  old  gentleman's  face.  "  No,  you  can't 
get  a  drink  if  you  want  it ;  but  you'll  find 
plenty  of  good  eating,  and  a  quiet,  orderly,  well- 
kept  house.  No  idlers  in  your  way,  nor  tipsy 
loungers  to  annoy  you.  You  may  be  as  com 
fortable  at  Grover's  as  in  your  own  house." 

"  Dry  sort  of  comfort,"  responded  Hyer,  the 
growl  dying  out  of  his  voice.  The  warmth  of 
the  room,  and  the  pleasant  manner  of  the  old 
gentleman  were  beginning  to  soften  the  asperities 
of  his  temper.  "  What  kind  of  people  live 
here  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  good  kind  of  people ;  sober,  industrious 
and  thrifty.  There  is  not  a  beggar  nor  a  pauper 
in  the  township." 

"  There  isn't !"  the  stranger  lifted  his  eye 
brows  and  looked  incredulous. 

"  Not  one,  sir !  not  one !"  was  the  emphatic 
answer.  "And  that's  something  we  Brantly 
people  take  pride  in.  No,  sir ;  not  a  beggar  nor 
a  pauper !" 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  17 

"  Indeed !"  The  stranger  did  not  appear  to 
take  much  interest  in  the  statement. 

66  Do  you  imagine  we  could  say  this  if  our 
friend  Grover  here  kept  a  bar  ?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  —  nor  care  much, 
either,"  returned  Hyer,  half  indifferently  and 
half  rudely. 

"  Well,  I  know,  and  care  too,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  his  pleasant  manner  giving  way  to 
one  more  serious.  "  You  can't  have  bars  and 
drinking-houses  in  any  town  or  neighborhood 
without  making  idlers  and  drunkards ;  and  pau 
perism  follows  as  a  natural  consequence." 

"If  a  man  wants  liquor  he'll  get  it,"  said 
Hyer. 

"  He  can't  get  what  he  can't  find ;  a  fact  that 
you  seem  to  have  discovered  since  your  arrival 
in  Brantly." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  can't  get  a 
glass  of  liquor  in  this  town  ?" 

"  You  can't  buy  it  in  a  tavern  or  dram-shop." 


18  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"That  may  be;  but  I'll  get  it  for  all  that, 
and  as  much  as  I  want." 

"  Where  ?" 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  looked 
knowing. 

"You've  been  here  before?"  queried  the  old 
gentleman,  his  manner  becoming  graver.  The 
sphere  of  the  stranger  was  beginning  to  repel 
him. 

"  Never." 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  any  one  in 
Brantly  ?" 

"  Yes.     Do  you  know  a  Mr.  Dennis  Fithian  ?" 

"  Of  the  firm  of  Grubb  £  Fithian  ?" 

"  Yes.  They  can  fruits  and  vegetables.  I've 
often  met  Fithian  in  New  York." 

"  I  know  him  very  well." 

"  Nice  sort  of  a  man,"  said  Hyer.  "  I  like 
him." 

The  old  gentleman  made  no  response ;  but  an 
observer  would  have  seen  a  soberer  expression 
Bettling  into  his  face. 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  19 

"  How  far  is  his  establishment  from  here  ?" 

"  Only  a  few  hundred  yards  away." 

1  i  It's  large,  I'm  told." 

"  Yes  ;  we  think  it  quite  extensive." 

"  Making  money  fast?" 

"It  is  said  so." 

Here  a  servant  came  into  the  parlor  and  in 
formed  Mr.  Andrew  Hyer  that  his  room  was 
ready. 

"  Don't  like  that  fellow,"  said  the  old  gentle 
man,  speaking  to  the  landlord,  who  came  into 
the  parlor  as  his  guest  was  leaving  it. 

"  Puts  on  airs;  but  it  won't  do  here,"  replied 
G rover.  "  Had  to  take  him  down  a  peg." 

"You  did?" 

«  Yes." 

"  He's  acquainted  with  Fithian." 

"  Did  he  say  so  ?" 

"  Yes.     Has  business  writh  him,  I  infer." 

"  Likely.   Looks  as  if  he  might  know  Fithian." 

The  old  gentleman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"  D'you  know,"  he  said,  "  that  I've  a  queer 


20  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

kind   of  feeling   about  this  man?     What's  his 
name  ?" 

"  Andrew  Hyer — so  he  wrote  it  down." 
"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I've  a  queer  kind  of 
feeling   about  this  man — as  if  his  coming  here 
wasn't  for  any  good." 

"I  don't  fancy  that  it  is;  at  least  so  far  as 
the  man's  intentions  are  involved.  Such  fellows 
rarely  if  ever  intend  good  to  any  except  them 
selves  ;  and  good  to  themselves  too  often  means 
ill  to  their  neighbors." 

"  I  wonder  what  he  wants  with  Fithian  ?" 
"  He's  a  clerk  or  partner  in  some  New  York 
house  that  deals  in  canned  goods,  I  presume,  and 
is  here  on  business,"  returned  the  landlord,  with 
an  air  of  indifference  strongly  in  contrast  with 
the  old  gentleman's  concerned  and  nervous 
manner. 

And  here  let  us  say  something  about  this  old 
gentleman.  His  name  is  Percy  Norman;  and  he 
has  lived  in  Brantly  for  over  forty  years.  He  is 
a  character  in  his  way,  and  his  life  runs  in  a 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  21 

groove  out  of  which  it  is  rarely  thrown.  He 
came  to  Brantly  when  he  was  twenty-one  years 
of  age  and  opened  a  small  country  store  in  the 
then  insignificant  village,  which  did  not  number 
a  hundred  houses  all  told.  There  were  two 
remarkable  things  about  his  little  store;  one 
was  the  excellent  quality  and  great  variety  of 
the  goods  which  were  kept  for  sale,  and.  the 
other  the  absence  of  all  kinds  of  distilled  or 
fermented  liquors.  There  was  no  little  stir  and 
talk  in  the  village  when  the  fact  became  known 
that  neither  whiskey,  rum,  gin,  brandy,  wine 
nor  beer  could  be  bought  at  the  new  store. 
Some  said  the  thing  was  perfectly  absurd,  and 
that  young.  Norman  would  never  succeed ;  while 
others,  who  saw  and  deplored  the  evil  of  drink 
ing,  which  was  seriously  hurting  the  neighbor 
hood,  ranged  themselves  on  his  side,  talked  of 
him  approvingly,  and  bought  of  him  all  they 
needed. 

The  keeper  of  the  old  village  store  had  been 
for  some  years  previous  to  this  rather  too  good 


22  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

a  customer  for  the  liquors  which  he  kept  for 
sale.  Neglect  of  business,  thriftlessness,  and 
indifference  to  the  wants  of  his  customers  came 
as  a  consequence ;  and  it  was  not  long  after  the 
new  store  opened,  with  its  attractive  appearance, 
great  variety  of  goods,  and  novelties  never  seen 
in  Brantly  until  now,  ere  young  Norman  had 
more  than  two-thirds  of  all  the  trade,  and  his 
neighbor  found  little  to  do  except  in  the  way  of 
drawing  pints  and  quarts  of  spirits  for  those 
who  bought  their  dry  goods  and  groceries  from 
his  rival  and  their  liquor  from  him.  Arid  what 
made  it  worse  was  the  fact  that  too  many  of 
these  customers  ran  up  accounts  which  they  did 
not  settle  as  promptly  as  he  could  wish. 

The  result  was,  a  closing  out,  before  the  end 
of  the  first  year,  of  all  his  general  business,  and 
the  reduction  of  his  place  to  a  drinking-house — 
or  mere  dram-shop.  In  the  mea#i  time,  a  senti 
ment  in  favor  of  temperance  had  been  slowly  but 
steadily  gaining  ground.  It  was  because  of  his 
deep  convictions  touching  the  evils  of  intemper- 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  23 

ance,  that  Percy  Norman  had  set  his  face  against 
the  liquor  traffic  in  all  its  forms ;  and  having 
read  and  reflected  much  upon  the  subject,  he  was 
able,  in  any  of  the  numerous  discussions  into 
which  he  was  naturally  drawn,  to  express  lead 
ing  and  enlightened  views,  and  to  give  a  healthy 
direction  to  public  thought  and  feeling.  Steadily 
grew  the  party  of  temperance  in  Brantly  until, 
on  the  death,  from  apoplexy  after  a  fit  of  drunk 
enness,  of  the  only  man  in  the  town  who  sold 
liquor,  it  was  influential  enough  to  banish  the 
trade  from  their  midst.  This  did  not  occur,  how 
ever,  until  five  years  after  Norman  came  into  the 
place,  nor  until  there  had  been  many  sad  evi 
dences  of  the  curse  drink  was  laying  upon  the 
village  and  neighborhood. 

Things  had  been  running  down  sadly  with 
certain  of  the  denizens  of  Brantly  up  to  the  time 
of  this  change  in  the  order  of  affairs.  Half  a 
dozen  men,  once  industrious,  and  good  providers 
for  their  families,  had  become  sots,  and  their 
wives  and  children  reduced  to  want  and  misery. 


24  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT   BRANTLY. 

Not  content  with  eschewing  evil  work  himself, 
Norman  had  tried  to  reclaim  the  men  whom 
another's  evil  work  had  injured;  but  his  efforts 
were  vain  so  long  as  his  neighbor  set  temptation 
in  their  way.  But  when  temptation  was  re 
moved,  the  task  was  easier.  There  were  some 
who  would  have  liquor,  if  they  sent  for  it  to  the 
next  town,  or  walked  three  miles  to  the  nearest 
tavern  on  the  road.  Still,  there  were  many  in 
Brantly,  especially  among  the  youths  and  young 
men,  with  whom  appetite  was  not  yet  dominant, 
who  ceased  to  use  intoxicating  drinks  after  its 
sale  in  their  midst  was  stopped. 

Percy  Norman  was  a  philanthropist.  His 
thought  was  always  going  out  to  his  neighbor, 
and  seeking  for  ways  to  do  him  good.  He  was 
diligent  in  his  business,  and  prospered  therein 
because  of  his  diligence;  but  he  differed  from 
most  of  those  around  him  in  this,  that  he  never 
lost  sight  of  his  neighbor's  welfare  while  seeking 
his  own.  In  all  his  transactions  he  was  so  rigidly 
just,  that  the  people  who  dealt  with  him  soon 


THE    FOUNTAIN   INN.  25 

learned  to  regard  their  interests  as  entirely  safe  in 
his  hands.  So,  in  this  very  justice,  which  had  as 
much  regard  for  his  neighbor  as  for  himself,  Nor 
man  found  an  element  of  prosperity.  Even  those 
who  would  have  overreached,  and  so  cheated  him 
in  a  bargain  had  the  opportunity  been  given, 
felt  it  safer  to  deal  with  him  than  with  most 
other  men,  because  they  were  sure  that  no  advan 
tage  would  be  taken,  and  therefore  gave  him 
their  custom,  and  swelled  the  tide  of  his  pros 
perity. 

In  the  course  of  time  Percy  Norman  began  to 
grow  rich.  As  a  good  citizen,  he  felt  it  to  be  his 
duty  to  invest  his  steadily  accumulating  wealth 
in  ways  that  should  benefit  the  town  and  his 
neighbors  as  well  as  himself.  He  had  become 
identified  with  Brantly,  and  regarded  it  as  some 
thing  more  than  a  place  in  which  money  was  to 
be  made.  He  gave  liberally  for  the  building  of 
churches  ;  for  a  town  hall ;  and  for  the  establish 
ment  of  a  young  men's  library  and  reading  room. 
But  the  work  to  which  he  devoted  himself  most 


26          THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

earnestly,  as  his  means  grew  larger,  was  the 
erection  of  comfortable  dwellings  for  the  poor 
and  industrious  people  of  the  town.  He  bought 
two  acres  of  ground,  fronting  on  the  principal 
street,  and  running  back  to  a  stream  that  skirted 
the  village  on  one  side,  laying  it  out  into  streets 
and  building  lots,  and  planting  it  with  shade 
trees.  On  a  portion  of  this,  in  starting  his  enter 
prise,  he  built  ten  small,  but  neat  and  convenient 
houses,  suitable  for  working  men's  families. 
These  he  sold  to  sober  and  industrious  men 
of  honest  reputation,  to  be  paid  for  in  small 
monthly  instalments,  that  were  but  little  larger 
than  the  rent  they  had  been  paying  for  meaner 
tenements.  The  time  given  for  the  payment  of 
the  entire  purchase  money  was  ten  years,  in 
order  that  the  monthly  instalments  might  be  as 
light  and  as  little  burdensome  to  the  poor  fami 
lies  as  possible.  Equitable  provision  was  made 
in  the  title  deeds  for  forfeitures  and  reclamations, 
where,  from  any  causes,  the  purchasers  of  these 
houses  failed  to  meet  the  required  conditions. 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  27 

After  the  lapse  of  two  years,  the  success  of  his 
scheme  was  so  clearly  demonstrated,  that  Mr. 
Norman  put  up  ten  more  dwellings,  all  of  which 
found  purchasers  on  his  easy  terms.  Thirty 
houses  were  in  due  time  built  on  this  lot  of 
ground.  It  cannot  be  said  that  the  kind-hearted 
man  who,  in  the  investment  of  his  money,  looked 
as  well  to  the  good  of  his  neighbor  as  to  his  own 
profit,  met  with  no  ingratitude,  trouble  or  dis 
honest  efforts  to  rob  him  of  what  was  justly  his 
own.  But  Mr.  Norman  understood  human  na 
ture,  and  was  not  only  wise  and  forbearing,  but 
firm  and  decided  in  his  dealings  with  those  who 
sought  to  do  him  wrong.  A  good  and  just  man, 
he  was  far  from  being  weak  or  vacillating,  as  all 
those  who  set  themselves  to  do  him  evil  found 
sooner  or  later  to  their  cost. 

At  the  time  our  story  opens,  Mr.  Norman  was 
over  sixty  years  of  age,  a  bachelor,  and  out  of 
active  business ;  though  he  still  retained  an  in 
terest  in  the  large  store  of  which  he  had  once 
been  the  owner,  and  which  was  now  in  the  hands 


28  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

of  two  young  men  whom  he  had  raised,  and 
with  whom  he  had  left  a  considerable  amount  of 
capital.  His  chief  occupation  consisted  in  look 
ing  after  the  interests  of  Brantly,  with  which  he 
had  now  become  almost  as  completely  identified 
as  if  the  entire  ownership  of  the  place  were 
vested  in  himself;  and  as  he  was  the  richest 
man  in  the  whole  township,  most  people  were 
inclined  to  let  him  have  his  way.  The  excep 
tions  were  chiefly  among  those  who  cared  so 
little  for  any  but  themselves  that  they  did  not 
scruple  to  do  things  hurtful  or  annoying  to 
others,  if  gain  were  to  be  acquired  thereby  ;  and 
as  Mr.  Norman  kept  a  sharp  lookout  on  the 
doings  of  these  people,  and  did  not  hesitate  about 
interfering  with  them,  it  is  not  at  all  surprising 
that  they  held  him  in  disfavor. 

A  few  times  small  drinking-houses  had  been 
opened,  and  determined  efforts  made  to  set  flow 
ing  in  Brantly  the  fiery  stream  of  ruin  ;  but  Mr. 
Norman's  influence  was  potent  enough  to  arrest 
the  evil  almost  in  its  very  beginning.  Thus  for 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  29 

over  thirty  years,  with  only  occasional  inroads 
of  the  enemy,  the  town  had  maintained  its  hos 
tile  attitude  towards  all  forms  of  intemperance. 

It  was  now  just  ten  years  since  the  last  of 
these  attempts  to  establish  and  maintain  a 
drinking-saloon  was  made  by  a  man  named 
Dennis  Fithian.  This  man  had  saved  a  few 
hundred  dollars  out  of  his  salary  as  clerk  in  a 
store,  and  being  a  smart  young  fellow  and  am 
bitious  to  get  ahead  in  the  world — and  withal 
destitute  of  any  scruple  as  to  the  means — he 
resolved  to  take  the  shortest  road  to  prosperity 
that  lay  before  him.  What  better  investment 
of  his  money  could  he  make,  what  quicker  or 
surer  return  was  to  be  had,  than  in  a  drinking- 
bar  ?  As  for  public  sentiment,  he  took  little 
account  of  that.  "  Nobody  cares  for  me,"  he 
said,  "  and  why  should  I  care  for  anybody? 
It's  every  man  for  himself  in  this  world,  and 
I'm  going  to  look  after  Number  1." 

But  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  knowing  that, 
if  his  intention  v/ere  disclosed,  great  excitement 


30  THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRAXTLY. 

would  follow  and  a  vigorous  effort  be  made  to 
turn  him  from  his  purpose  or  to  hinder  him 
in  its  accomplishment.  Not  until  he  had  leased 
a  house  and  commenced  fitting  it  up  did  his 
purpose  transpire.  Among  the  first  to  see  him 
and  to  endeavor  to  influence  him,  was  Mr.  Nor 
man.  But  Fithian  was  prepared  for  every  argu 
ment  and  for  the  strongest  opposition.  Against 
his  "  Nobody  cares  for  me,  an.d  why  should  I 
care  for  anybody  ?"  Mr.  Norman  set  his  consid 
erations  of  moral  responsibility  in  vain. 

"  People  needn't  drink  if  they  don't  want  to. 
I  shall  not  force  any  one."  With  speech  like 
this  he  held  doggedly  to  his  resolution,,  and  went 
on  fitting  up  his  place  and  getting  in  his  stock 
of  liquors. 

The  excitement,  anxiety  and  distress  of  Mr. 
Norman  were  very  great.  He  could  rest  neither 
night  nor  day,  and  left  no  influence  untried  on 
Fithian  up  to  the  very  hour  that  he  opened  his 
saloon  and  offered  the  people  of  Brantly  a  free 


THE    FOUNTAIN    INN.  31 

lunch,    and    for   that    particular    occasion    free 
drinks  into  the  bargain. 

For  just  one  month  the  doors  of  Fithian's 
saloon  were  opened  ;  but  he  had  miscalculated 
as  to  the  extent  of  his  patronage.  Mr.  Norman's 
influence  with  the  people,  young  and  old,  was 
greater  than  he  had  imagined.  Finding  that  lie 
could  not  turn  the  man  from  his  purpose,  Mr. 
Norman's  next  effort  was  with  the  men  and  boys 
on  whom  Fithian  counted  for  support  in  his  new 
business.  A  visit  was  made  to  every  man  and 
woman  in  town,  and  every  possible  consider 
ation  urged  against  any  countenance  whatever 
of  this  effort  to  make  gain  out  of  the  hurt  of  the 
people.  In  this  he  was  so  successful  that,  at  the 
end  of  the  first  week,  Fithian  had  not  put  as 
much  money  into  his  till  as  would  pay  his  rent 
for  the  time  the  saloon  had  been  open. 


32  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    ENEMY    FOILED. 

young  saloon-keeper  was  sitting  behind 
his  bar  on  the  morning  that  opened  the  sec 
ond  week  of  his  new  enterprise,  feeling  dull  and 
discouraged,  when  a  lad  came  in  and  handed 
him  a  note.  It  was  from  Mr.  Norman,  and  con 
tained  a  request  that  he  would  call  and  see  him, 
as  he  had  something  to  communicate  which  he 
believed  would  be  to  his  advantage.  Fithian 
growled  an  ill-natured  consent  to  the  lad  as  he 
crumpled  the  note  in  his  hand.  An  hour  after 
ward,  he  entered  the  office  of  Mr.  Norman,  as 
suming  as  he  did  so,  a  half  indifferent,  half  defi 
ant  air.  The  old  gentleman  received  him  kindly; 
but  with  a  grave  and  serious  manner. 

"  If  I    am    rightly    informed,"  he    said,   after 
Fithian,  awkward  and  ill  at  ease,  had  taken  the 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  33 

chair  to  which  he  pointed  him,  "  this  wretched 
business  is  not  proving  as  successful  as  you  had 
hoped." 

"It  will  all  come  out  right;  I  am  not  in  the 
least  afraid,"  replied  the  young  man,  with  forced 
confidence. 

"  It  can  never  come  out  right,  my  young  friend, 
never !"  was  the  emphatic  response  of  Mr.  Nor 
man  ;  "  and  of  all  who  are  concerned,  you  should 
be  most  afraid." 

"  Of  what  ?"  asked  Fithian,  a  slight  curve  of 
contempt  giving  his  coarse  mouth  a  still  more 
repulsive  expression  than  the  one  it  usually 
wore. 

"  The  injury  and  loss  that  will  surely  come  to 
yourself  if  you  go  on  with  this  business;  for  it 
is  a  law  of  our  moral  life,  that  in  every  attempt 
we  deliberately  make  to  serve  ourselves  through 
hurt  to  the  neighbor,  we  incur  a  heavier  loss  and 
sadder  consequences  than  we  inflict  upon  others. 
The  good  God  may  soften  the  blow  we  strike  at 

another;  but  not  the  rebound  upon  ourselves." 
8 


34  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

A  stolid  expression  came  into  the  young  man's 
face.  It  was  almost  an  unknown  tongue  in  which 
Mr.  Norman  was  speaking  to  him. 

"I'll  take  all  that  sort  of  risk,"  he  answered, 
after  an  effort  had  been  made  to  get  a  little  light 
into  his  mind.  "  What  I'm  trying  for  now  is  to 
get  a  start  in  the  world.  If  I  don't  help  myself, 
there'll  be  none  to  help  me.  Clerking  it  at  three 
or  four  hundred  dollars  a  year  doesn't  suit  Den 
nis  Fithian.  There's  a  faster  way  to  get  money 
and  he  is  bound  to  find  it." 

"  Your  present  adventure  doesn't  seem  to  be 
over-promising,"  said  Mr.  Norman. 

"  It's  in  the  right  direction,  and  is  sure  to  come 
out  right.  Patience  and  perseverance  are  all 
that  are  required." 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  your  patience  and  per 
severance  will  have  a  long  and  severe  trial.  I 
have  lived  here  for  over  thirty  years,  and  my 
heart  is  bound  up  in  the  well-being  of  the  peo 
ple.  I  know  that  nothing  can  hurt  them  like 
intemperance  ;  that  it  is  the  most  dreadful 


THE    ENEMY   FOILED.  35 

curse  that  can  fall  upon  any  community.  To 
save  them  from  it,  I  will  spend  rny  money,  my 
time  and  my  influence.  I  shall  have  to  regard 
you  as  an  enemy  to  the  common  good,  and  treat 
you  as  an  enemy.  I  shall  have  to  do  all  in  my 
power  to  obstruct  your  business,  and  to  break  it 
down.  I  know  every  man,  woman  and  child  in 
Brantly,  and  I  warn  you,  that  while  your  doors 
stand  open,  and  you  seek  to  entice  the  weak  and 
unwary  to  enter  the  road  that  leads  to  destruc 
tion,  I  shall  not  cease  day  nor  night  in  my  efforts 
to  hold  them  away,  and  to  give  such  a  direction 
to  public  sentiment  that  all  men  will  come  to 
regard  and  treat  you  as  their  common  enemy." 

In  spite  of  his  efforts  to  seem  indifferent,  the 
lace  of  young  Fithian  lost  its  color,  and  his 
mouth  shut  closely  with  a  hard,  angry,  troubled 
expression. 

"  You  can  persecute  me,  if  you  will,"  he  said. 
"  You  have  money,  and  I  am  but  a  poor  young 
man.  I  am  comparatively  a  stranger  in  the 
place ;  you  know  everybody.  There  are  heavy 


36  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

odds  against  me,  but,"  and  he  struck  his  fist  in 
his  palm,  and  swore  an  oath,  "I  am  bound  to 
carry  this  thing  through,  and" — flinging  out 
another  oath — "I  will !" 

"That  is,  if  you  can,"  Mr.  Norman  answered, 
without  showing  any  excitement. 

"  Where  there's  a  will,  there's  a  way,"  re 
sponded  Fithian. 

"  Not  always ;  and  especially  not  when  a 
stronger  will,  with  larger  means  of  action,  are 
set  in  opposition.  And  just  these,  you  must  un 
derstand,  are  in  your  way." 

"  We  shall  see,"  returned  the  young  man, 
rising  from  his  chair  in  considerable  excite 
ment,  an  angry  flush  chasing  the  pallor  from 
his  face. 

Mr.  Nor  man  had  sent  for  Fithian  with  a  pur 
pose  in  his  mind ;  but  the  spirit  and  temper  ex 
hibited  by  that  individual  made  him  hesitate 
about  declaring  it.  After  the  conference  had 
been  continued  for  a  little  while  longer,  and  with 
no  satisfactory  result  to  either  party,  Fithian  re- 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  37 

tired  with  the  declaration,  that  come  what  would, 
his  bar  should  be  kept  open. 

And  now  the  war  began   in  earnest.     There 
were  a  great  many  in  the  town  of  Brantly  to 
whom  the  taste  of  liquor  was  pleasant,  and  who 
would  hardly  be  able  to  resist  temptation  if  it 
came  in   their  way.     A  number  of  these  were 
working  men  with  families  to  support;  and  there 
were  at  least  a  dozen  of  these,  who  owned  and 
occupied  the  houses  built  by  Mr.  Norman.    Some 
of  them  had,   in  years  gone  by,  indulged   their 
appetite  too  freely,  and  were  only  out  of  danger 
when  away  from  the  sight  and  smell  of  liquor. 
There  were    boys  of  from    fourteen    to    twenty 
years  of  age,  some  of  whom  were  under  too  little 
restraint   from   their    parents.     These    were    in 
danger  of  drifting,  especially  after  nightfall,  into 
the  saloon  which  had  just  been  opened. 

Mr.  Norman  saw  all  this,  and  set  himself  reso 
lutely  to  the  work  of  holding  these  weak  ones 
away  from  the  dangerous  ground  that  was  before 
them.  His  first  movement  against  the  enemy 


THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

was  made  very  quietly.  He  drew  up  a  paper,  in 
which  the  evil  that  threatened  the  town  was 
clearly  stated,  and  the  purpose  to  discountenance 
and  oppose  in  every  way  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
drinks  declared — personal  abstinence  being  espe 
cially  affirmed.  With  this  in  his  hand,  headed 
by  his  own  signature,  he  called  upon  every  man 
in  Brantly,  and  obtained  the  signatures  of  nearly 
all  to  the  document.  Then  he  went  among  the 
lads  and  succeeded  in  getting  their  names  to  a 
similar  paper.  He  spent  days  in  this  work,  talk 
ing  with  great  earnestness  to  the  people,  and  in 
spiring  them  with  his  own  spirit. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  saloon-keeper  pla 
carded  his  windows  with  the  names  of  fancy 
drinks,  and  announcements  of  free  lunches;  his 
place  was  under  such  perpetual  observation  that 
few  ventured  within  his  doors  in  the  open  day 
light.  In  the  evenings  he  had  more  visitors; 
but  not  in  sufficient  numbers  to  make  his  profit 
equal  to  his  expenses. 

One,  two,  three,  four  weeks  went  by,  and  in 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  39 

all  that  time  but  few,  except  the  lowest  and 
most  degraded  of  the  population  in  Brantly,  were 
seen  going  into  the  bar-room.  The  better  and 
more  respectable  classes  regarded  the  place  as  a 
blot  upon  the  town,  and  something  a  great  deal 
worse  than  a  nuisance. 

At  the  end  of  a  month  Fithian  received  an 
other  note  from  Mr.  Norrnan  asking  him  to  call 
upon  him.  as  he  had  something  of  interest  to 
communicate. 

"  You  wish  to  see  me,  I  believe,"  he  said,  on 
entering  Mr.  Norman's  office,  scarcely  making  an 
effort  to  conceal  his  dislike  for  the  man  who  had 
set  himself  in  opposition,  and  blocked  his  way  to 
the  success  he  had  counted  on  so  surely. 

"  Yes,  I  wish  to  see  you,  Mr.  Fithian.  Sit 
down,"  and  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  gracious- 
ness  of  manner,  that  came  spontaneously,  offered 
his  visitor  a  seat.  Fithian  sat  down  upon  the 
edge  of  the  chair ;  his  face  clouded,  and  his 
mouth  set  hard. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  friendly  talk  with  you," 


THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY, 

said  Mr.  Norman,  «  and  yet  a  very  serious  one. 
And  first,  let  me  ask  as  to  the  result  of  your 
new  business.  Do  you  regard  it  as  in  any  re 
spect  satisfactory  ?" 

"Yes,   sir;    in    some   respects    quite    satisfac 
tory/7  was  the  prompt  answer. 

"  Have  your  profits  for  the  first  month  been 
sufficient  to  pay  your  rent?" 

"I  think  so;  but  if  not,  it  signifies  little. 
You  may  start  any  business  you  please  and  the 
chances  are  against  your  doing  any  better  in  the 
first  month  than  I  have  done.  One  thing  I 
know;  my  profits  were  twice  as  much  this  last 
week  as  they  were  the  first,  and  I  consider  that 
encouragement  enough." 

Fithian  was  watching  Mr.  Norman's  face  as 
lie  said  this,  and  noted  with  satisfaction  the 
change  that  passed  over  it. 

"  I  wish,  my  young  friend,  that  you  were  in 
a  better  business,"  was  replied,  "  one  that  would 
benefit  instead  of  hurting  the  people."  Mr.  Nor 
man  spoke  very  seriously. 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  4| 

"  Find  me  such  a  business,  and  if  it  requires 
no  more  capital  than  this,  and  pays  as  well,  I'll 
shut  up  my  saloon  instanter.  Now,  sir,  what  do 
you  say  to  that  ?  Show  me  the  business  and  I'm 
your  man." 

There  was  a  kind  of  rude  banter,  not  unmixed 
with  triumph,  in  Fithian's  manner. 

"I  know  of  a  business,"  said  Mr.  Norman, 
speaking  slowly  and  with  a  thoughtful  air,  "that 
is  sure,  in  the  end,  to  pay  better  than  the  one  you 
have  started,  but  it  requires  for  its  successful 
prosecution  more  capital  than  you  can  com 
mand." 

"  Of  course,"  was  answered,  "  I  know  of  good 
openings  enough  if  I  could  put  down  the  cash. 
It  takes  money  to  make  money." 

"Good  openings  in  Bran  try?"  queried  Mr. 
Norman. 

"  I  know  of  at  least  one." 

"  What  is  the  business  ?" 

66  Canning  fruit.  Charley  Grubb  has  made  a 
good  start,  but  can't  do  much  for  want  of  more 


42  THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

capital.  If  I  could  have  raised  two  or  three 
thousand  dollars  instead  of  two  or  three  hun 
dred,  I  would  have  gone  in  with  him." 

"  Suppose  you  had  the  two  or  three  thousand 
now,  what  would  you  say  ?" 

A  look  of  surprise  flashed  into  the  man's  face, 
and  its  expression  of  mingled  defiance  and  ill- 
nature  began  to  die  out. 

"  As  I  haven't  that  sum,  I  have  nothing  to 
say,"  he  answered,  his  manner  a  little  disturbed 
and  bewildered. 

"  It  is  of  this  very  business  that  I  wish  to 
speak  with  you,"  said  Mr.  Norman.  "  I  have  had 
some  conversation  with  Mr.  Grubb,  and  have  a 
pretty  clear  apprehension  of  his  business,  its 
needs,  and  the  chances  of  its  growth  under 
proper  conditions.  He  needs  capital,  and  an 
active,  intelligent  business  partner.  I  have  been 
thinking  about  him  for  some  time,  and  if  I  could 
find  the  right  man  to  join  him,  might  be  induced 
to  supply  the  money." 

A  marked  change  was  now  visible  in  young 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  43 

Fithian;  his  face  brightened,  his  hard  mouth 
found  a  more  attractive  expression,  he  looked 
another  and  a  better  sort  of  a  man.  Mr.  Norman 
half  wondered  at  the  transformation. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  went  into  your  present  mis 
erable  business/'  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  The 
very  fact  of  your  having  done  so  brings  doubts 
and  questions  that  trouble  me." 

Fithian  looked  at  him  in  silence,  the  light 
which  had  corne  into  his  face  gradually  fading 
out. 

"You  are  young  and  active,  have  had  a  fair 
business  training,  are  ambitious  to  get  along  in 
the  world,  and  would,  I  think,  if  associated  with 
Mr.  Grubb  and  aided  with  capital,  make  his 
adventure  an  assured  success.  If  you  had 

not "  The  old  gentleman's  brow  grew  cloudy 

and  perplexed,  as  he  checked  his  speech  and  left 
the  sentence  unfinished.  Fithian  understood  all 
he  would  have  said. 

"  To  speak  plainly,"  resumed  Mr.  Norman, 
"  the  very  fact  of  your  being  willing  to  go  into 


44  THE    BAR-BOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

such  a  dreadful  business  as  that  in  which  you 
are  now  engaged — a  business  in  which  you  can 
not  make  a  dollar  without  injuring  your  neigh 
bor — makes  me  more  than  half  afraid  to  trust 
you.  Don't  you  see  in  what  an  attitude  you 
have  placed  yourself,  and  to  what  kind  of  a 
judgment  you  are  naturally  subjected  ?  You 
have  not  scrupled  about  the  loss  to  others  so 
that  you  made  gain.  Will  you  scruple  under 
other  circumstances  ?  Here  comes  the  doubtful 
question." 

Fithian  understood  him  clearly,  and  at  the 
same  time  saw  how  largely  it  would  be  to  his 
advantage  to  have  Mr.  Norman's  confidence  and 
friendship. 

"  I  would  gladly  give  up  a  business  for  which 
I  have  no  taste,  if  I  could  only  find  another  in 
which  I  could  make  a  living  and  at  the  same 
time  get  ahead  in  the  world.  I  knew  no  other 
business,  and  so  I  made  my  venture  in  this. 
There  are  thousands  of  respectable  men  engaged 
in  it,  and  it  has  the  sanction  of  la\v.  You  judge 


THE    ENEMY   FOILED.  45 

me  too  severely,  Mr.  Norman.  I  never  wronged 
a  man  out  of  a  dollar  in  my  life.  I  would  starve 
rather  than  be  guilty  of  a  dishonest  act.  I  have 
not  looked  at  this  matter  as  you  have  been 
accustomed  to  look  at  it,  sir  ;  have  not  seen  the 
harm  in  it  that  you  have  seen.  To  one  who 
has  only  a  small  capital  on  which  to  work  it  is 
regarded  as  the  surest  and  easiest  way  to  get 
a  start  in  the  world.  You  must  not  blame 
me  too  severely.  I  have  only  myself  to  depend 
on." 

Mr.  Norman  began  to  feel  softened  towards 
the  young  man,  whose  whole  bearing  had  under 
gone  a  change,  and  who  seemed  to  have  risen 
into  a  better  spirit. 

"It's  a  dreadful,  dreadful  business!  —  the 
worst  a  man  can  follow !  Go  home,  take  down 
your  signs  and  shut  your  doors.  Then  come 
back  and  see  me,  and  we'll  talk  over  affairs." 

'  Will  you  give  me  a  little  time  for  considera 
tion?"  asked  Fithian. 

"Certainly.      Think  it  over;    and  when  you 


46  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

have  come  to  a  decision,  if  it  is  in  the  right  direc 
tion,  call  and  see  me." 

In  less  than  two  hours  the  young  man  returned 
with  the  announcement  that  he  had  closed  his 
saloon.  A  week  from  that  time  he  became  asso 
ciated  with  Mr.  Grubb  in  the  canning  business, 
Mr.  Norman  having  loaned  three  thousand  to 
the  new  firm. 

Ten  years  later  we  find  this  firm  still  in  exist 
ence,  owning  a  large  establishment  and  having 
extensive  trade;  both  partners  having  become 
well  off.  The  capital  advanced  by  Mr.  Norman 
has  been  paid  back  with  interest;  but  we  are 
sorry  as  much  cannot  be  said  as  to  the  good  will 
and  favor  that  went  with  the  capital.  Mean 
natures  are  incapable  of  gratitude ;  and  too  often 
let  a  sense  of  obligation  goad  them  into  hatred. 
Fithian  was  never  able  to  forget,  in  the  benefits 
received  at  the  hands  of  Mr.  Norman,  the  im 
pediments  which  had  been  thrown  in  his  way  by 
that  individual,  nor  the  fact  that  he  had  once 
insulted  him,  as  he  was  pleased  to  regard  it. 


THE    ENEMY    FOILED.  47 

The  insult  lay  in  Mr.  Norman's  expression  of  a 
doubt,  based  on  the  fact  of  his  going  into  the 
liquor  business,  of  his  real  integrity  of  character. 
This  had  always  rankled ;  and  he  still  held  it  as 
a  grudge  against  his  benefactor  which  sooner  or 
later  he  would  repay. 

No  farther  attempts  were  made  to  sell  liquor 
openly  in  Brantly  up  to  the  time  our  story  com 
mences. 


48  THE    BAR-llOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


T 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL. 


WO  men  were  sitting  together   in  a  well-fur 


nished  room.  It  was  evening.  A  fire 
burned  in  the  grate,  and  a  lamp  spread  its  soft 
light  through  the  apartment.  On  a  table  were 
cigars,  glasses  and  a  decanter.  A  few  pictures 
in  showy  frames  hung  on  the  walls.  By  his 
self-important  bearing,  his  narrow  forehead,  small 
gray  eyes,  and  glitter  of  jewelry  and  diamonds, 
we  recognise  one  of  these  men  as  the  dissatisfied 
guest  of  the  Fountain  Inn,  who  registered  his 
name  as  Andrew  Hyer.  The  other  is  Dennis 
Fithian,  noticeable  for  his  coarse,  sensual  face 
and  hard  mouth,  the  under  portion  of  which 
projects  strongly. 


THE    ENEMY   IN    COUNCIL.  49 

"  It  is  almost  comical  when  one  thinks 
of  it,"  the  man  Hyer  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
taking  his  cigar  from  his  mouth  as  he  did 
so,  and  blowing  out  the  smoke  in  short,  leisurely 
puffs. 

"  Worse  than  comical,"  returned  his  compan 
ion,  in  an  irritated  tone  of  voice,  "  I'm  sick  to 
death  of  this  one-man  influence  in  Brantly.  It 
ought  to  be  broken  down." 

"  The  surprising  thing  to  me  is,  that  you  have 
submitted  to  it  so  long.  If  I  had  been  living 
here  there  would  have  been  a  different  state  of 
affairs  long  ago." 

The  door  opened  and  a  neighbor  came  in.  He 
was  the  chief  legal  man  of  the  town. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Lyman !  Good  evening !  Good 
evening !  Glad  to  see  you !  My  friend  Mr. 
Hyer  from  New  York.  Mr.  Roger  Lyman." 

So  Fithian  greeted  the  newcomer,  and  pre 
sented  his  friend ;  doing  it  in  a  familiar  and  cor 
dial  manner. 

"Enjoying  yourselves,  I  see/'  remarked  the 
4 


50  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

lawyer,  a  smile  of  pleasure  warming  over  his  face 
as  he  looked  at  the  wine  and  cigars. 

"Yes;  it's  a  way  I  have  with  my  friends/' 
returned  Fithian,  pouring  out  a  glass  of  wine 
and  handing  it  to  Mr.  Lyman. 

"A  way  to  which  some  of  us  take  rather 
kindly,  especially  in  this  dry  place,"  said  the 
lawyer,  as  he  took  his  empty  glass  from  his  lips. 
It  was  noticeable  that  he  drank  with  the  man 
ner  of  one  athirst. 

"  Good  for  you  !"  exclaimed  the  man  from  New 
York,  "  a  confounded  dry  place,  as  I  happen  to 
know  !" 

"  Staying  at  Grover's?"  queried  the  lawyer. 

"Yes." 

"  Dry  as  a  bone,  there."  A  comical  expression 
came  into  the  speaker's  eyes. 

"  Dry  as  a  bone  everywhere,  except  just  here, 
if  I  am  to  take  the  word  of  my  friend  Fithian. 
It  is  really  comical,  as  I  was  saying  when  you 
came  in.  We  were  talking  about  your  one-horse 
town." 


THE   ENEMY   IN   COUNCIL.  51 

"  Beg  pardon,"  said  Roger  Lyman,  his  manner 
becoming  serious,  "we  don't  consider  Brantly  a 
one-horse  town  by  any  means." 

"  You've  got  a  miserable,  one-horse  tavern,  at 
any  rate,"  replied  Andrew  Hyer,  "and  you  can 
generally  judge  of  a  place  by  its  tavern." 

"I  cannot  agree  with  you  there,  either;  beg 
ging  pardon  for  differing.  Bat  we  think  our 
Fountain  Inn  the  best  kept  tavern  within  a  cir 
cuit  of  ten  miles." 

66  Can  you  get  a  bottle  of  wine,  or  a  glass  of 
spirits  to  thaw  the  ice  out  of  your  veins  ?  Not  a 
bit  of  it!  Faugh!" 

"  There  might  be  an  improvement  in  respect 
to  this,  I  confess ;  but  while  Mr.  Norman  main 
tains  his  present  influence  with  Grover,  no 
change  is  possible.  I'm  getting  a  little  out  of 
patience  with  the  old  fellow.  One  would  think, 
by  the  way  he  meddles  with  every  thing,  and 
concerns  himself  about  every  one's  business, 
he  owned  the  town  and  all  the  people  into  the 
bargain.  Isn't  that  so,  Fithian  ?" 


52  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

And  the  lawyer  winked  at  the  man  as  he  said 
this. 

Fithian's  hard  mouth  grew  harder  and  more 
respulsive ;  while  heavy  lines  darkened  his 
brow. 

"  He  doesn't  own  me,  thank  heaven  !"  came 
roughly  from  his  lips.  "  He's  crossed  my  path 
once  too  often,  confound  him  !  I  hate  the  very 
sight  of  his  hypocritical  face." 

"  He's  well  enough  in  his  way,"  said  Mr.  Ly- 
man  ;  "  and  there  is  no  concealing  the  fact  that 
he  has  done  a  great  deal  for  Brantly.  You 
mustn't  let  an  old  grudge  hide  what  is  really 
good  in  the  kind-hearted,  but  rather  meddlesome 
old  man." 

"  It  will  be  a  good  day  for  Brantly  when  he 
drops  out  of  it,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"  The  promise  of  which  is  not  very  flattering," 
answered  the  lawyer,  smiling.  "  Norman  doesn't 
belong  to  the  short-lived  generation.  For  all  his 
years,  he's  as  hale  and  hearty  as  the  best  of  us." 

"  The  more  reason  why  we  should  assert  our 


THE    ENEMY   IN    COUNCIL.  53 

freedom  now,"  said  Fithian.  "  There's  a  splendid 
business  waiting  here  for  somebody." 

"  Ah  !  What  is  it  ?"  queried  the  lawyer,  with 
a  look  of  interest  in  his  face. 

"  A  splendid  business,  and  plain  sailing,  if  only 
Norman  were  out  of  the  way,  or  suppressed." 

"  Oh,  I  understand.  You  are  thinking  about 
a  new  hotel  ?" 

"  Yes ;  one  fitted  up  in  modern  style ;  and 
having  all  the  modern  improvements,  conveni 
ences  and  attractions ;  a  hotel  in  which  a  man 
can  get  anything  he  wants.  Not  an  old,  dry, 
miserable,  obsolete  affair  like  the  Fountain  Inn, 
with  its  sleepy,  behind-the-age  landlord." 

"  A  desideratum,  certainly ;  though  I  cannot 
agree  with  all  you  say  about  Grover  and  his 
tavern.  In  its  way  the  Fountain  Inn  excella. 
There  is  no  such  house  of  entertainment  on  all 
the  Bedford  road." 

"May  be  not;  but  that  is  not  saying  much. 
A  shanty  bears  about  the  same  relation  to  a 
palace  that  our  tavern  does  to  a  first-class  hotel ; 


54  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

that's  the  real  truth  of  the  matter.  It's  a  shame  ! 
If  we  had  a  good  hotel  in  Brantly  the  town 
would  wake  up  from  its  stupor  and  start  ahead. 
We  should  have  live  people  coming  here,  and 
looking  around  them.  Property  would  begin  to 
run  up  in  value.  Every  man's  business  would 
increase.  Instead  of  having  to  be  all  the  while 
going  to  the  cities,  and  drumming  up  customers, 
I  would  have  people  coming  here  to  buy, 
attracted  by  the  very  life  and  stir  of  the  place. 
Population  would  increase,  business  flourish ; 
and  in  less  than  five  years  we  should  have  rail 
road  connections  with  New  York,  and  all  the  near 
towns  and  cities.  You  can't  draw  strangers  to 
a  place  unless  you  give  them  a  first-class  hotel. 
That's  what's  the  matter  with  Brantly !  I'm 
amazed  that  men  like  you,  Mr.  Lyman,  don't 
see  this.  Your  practice  at  the  bar  would  double 
in  a  few  years,  and  your  real  estate  be  worth 
two  dollars  to  one  that  it  will  bring  to-day." 

"  There  may  be  something  in  that/'  remarked 
the  lawyer,  thoughtfully. 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  55 

"  I've  had  my  eye  on  that  corner  lot  opposite 
Grover's  for  some  time,"  resumed  Fithian.  "  It's 
just  the  place  for  a  hotel.  I  can  buy  it  for 
fifteen  hundred  dollars." 

"  You  haven't  thought,  seriously,  of  giving  up 
your  present  business,  Mr.  Fithian  ?" 

"  No;  but  I  want  to  increase  it,  arid  at  the 
same  time  invest  my  money  to  the  greatest  advan 
tage.  Unless  Brantly  begins  to  show  some  signs 
of  growth  and  progress,  I  shall  have  to  pull  up 
and  take  my  business  and  capital  somewhere 
else." 

"  0,  no,  Mr.  Fithian,"  remonstrated  Lyman. 
"  We  can't  let  you  go.  Twenty  others  may  be 
spared,  but  not  you  !"  - 

"  Thank  you  for  your  good  opinion,  Mr. 
Lyman.  Let  me  fill  your  glass.  Sherry  that 
is  sherry  !  You  see  I  know  good  wine.  Now, 
seriously,  what  if  I  should  buy  that  lot  and 
get  plans  and  specifications  for  a  first-class 
hotel ;  do  you  think  there  are  half  a  dozen  men 
of  means  in  Brantly  who  would  unite  with  me 


56  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

in  forming  a  joint-stock  company,  representing 
a  capital  of  say  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
for  the  erection  and  equipment  of  a  first-class 
hotel?  The  investment  would  be  splendid.  I 
am  ready  to  head  the  list  with  twenty  thous 
and  dollars." 

"  You  may  put  me  down  for  five  thousand 
more,"  said  Andrew  Hyer. 

"  Twenty-five  thousand  to  start  with ;  one- 
fourth  of  all  the  sum  needed." 

Mr.  Lyman  looked  surprised  and  a  little  be 
wildered. 

"What  do  you  say?  How  much  will  you 
subscribe  ?" 

"  I  must  have  time  for  reflection,"  returned 
the  lawyer,  cautiously.  "  All  this  is  new  to 


me." 


"  Of  course.  Of  course.  But  I  have  thought 
about  it  a  great  deal ;  and  am  so  well  satisfied 
as  to  its  being  a  paying  investment  that  I  am 
willing  to  put  down  twenty  thousand  dollars. 
My  friend  Hyer  knows  something  about  hotels, 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  57 

and  you  see  how  ready  he  is  to  take  advantage 
of  the  opportunity." 

"  Norman  will  set  himself  against  the  scheme, 
and  do  all  in  his  power  to  defeat  it." 

"  Let  him  !"  And  Fithian  snapped  his  thumb 
and  finger  in  defiance  and  contempt.  "  Get  the 
chief  part  of  the  stock  taken  in  Brantly,  and 
Norman's  power  is  gone." 

"  Yes  ;  that  would  follow  as  a  thing  of  course. 
But  can  you  get  it  taken  here  ?" 

"  1  believe  so.  I  shall  count  you  in  for  at 
least  ten  thousand." 

"  You  put  the  figures  too  high  for  me,"  said 
the  lawyer,  in  whose  tone  consent  was  as  appa 
rent  as  in  his  words. 

"  High  or  low,  you  are  counted  in.  So  much 
settled.  A  third  of  the  stock  taken.  I'll  secure 
the  lot  to-morrow."  Fithian's  enthusiasm  was 
rising. 

"  Don't  be  precipitate,  Mr.  Fithian.  Take 
time  for  reflection.  There  is  too  much  involved 
in  all  this  for  hasty  action."  Lyman's  brows 


58  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

were  contracting ;  and  something  like  a  troubled 
expression  was  gathering  about  his  lips.  "In 
the  first  place,  Mr.  Norman's  opposition  will  be 
no  small  impediment.  You  know  what  influence 
he  has  with  the  people.  And,  in  the  second 
place,  I  am  not  so  sure  that  we  shall  gain  all  you 
seem  to  imagine.  To  be  candid,  I'm  afraid,  on 
second  thought,  of  the  new  order  of  things  your 
new  hotel  would  introduce.  Too  many  of  our 
young  men  would  be  attracted  to  the  bar ;  and 
a  bar-room  is  not " 

Mr.  Lyrnan  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  As 
he  paused  in  his  speech,  he  let  his  eyes  rest  upon 
the  floor,  and  half  lost  himself  in  thoughts  and 
images  that  were  evidently  far  from  agreeable. 

"  If  young  men  want  liquor  they'll  get  it ;  and, 
in  my  opinion,  there's  far  less  danger  in  open 
than  in  secret  drinking.  Stolen  waters  are  sweet, 
you  know.  Men  will  have  stimulants;  nature 
calls  for  them;  and  all  attempts  at  restriction 
are  but  weakness  and- folly.  At  an  open  bar,  a 
man  will  take  a  single  glass  with  his  friends; 


THE    KXEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  59 

but.  if  alone  with  that  friend,  and  away  from 
observation,  three  or  four  will  hardly  suffice. 
Two  men  are  made  drunkards  by  secret  drink 
ing  where  one  is  hurt  by  frequenting  bar-rooms. 
That  is  my  observation." 

"I  don't  know  about  it,"  replied  the  lawyer, 
doubtfully,  and  in  a  depressed  tone  of  voice.  He 
had  suddenly  lost  animation. 

"  Well,  I  do,  then,"  said  Fithian,  speaking 
even  more  positively  than  before.  "  It  stands 
to  reason.  Restrict  a  man  in  anything,  and  his 
first  impulse  is  to  break  through  that  restriction  ; 
and  in  breaking  through,  there  are  nine  chances 
in  ten  that  he  will  run  into  excess.  There  is  a 
great  deal  more  drinking  in  Brantly  than  three- 
fourths  of  the  good,  self-complacent  people  know ; 
and  drinking  of  a  kind  most  dangerous  of  all. 
An  open  bar  would  cure  this.  Men  who  drink 
under  observation  are  more  on  guard,  as  I  have 
said,  than  those  who  drink  in  secret." 

Mr.  Lyman  did  not  show  any  disposition  to 
argue  the  point;  but  was  more  inclined  to  push 


60  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

it  aside  as  something  that  disturbed  him.  Not 
for  an  instant  did  he  accept  the  case  as  presented 
by  the  other.  He  knew  that  it  involved  a 
specious  fallacy,  though  based  on  assumptions 
that  were  correct  in  the  main.  And  yet,  his 
inclinations  were  on  the  side  of  Fithian's  scheme. 
A  good  hotel  would,  he  believed,  give  Brantly 
an  impulse  in  the  right  direction.  The  town 
was  situated  in  a  beautiful  region  of  country, 
and  he  knew  that  summer  visitors  would  drift 
there  from  New  York  and  other  cities,  if  attract 
ive  accommodations  were  offered.  Men  of  means 
would  come  with  their  families ;  capital  would 
be  invested ;  improvements  made ;  and  in  time, 
there  must  come,  as  a  consequence,  railroad  con 
nections.  Property  would  advance,  business 
improve,  and  especially  the  business  of  Roger 
Lyman,  the  leading  lawyer  in  the  town.  Yes,^ 
he  would  like  to  see  a  first-class  hotel  in  Brantly. 
It  was  the  one  thing  needed  to  give  thrift  and 
progress ;  and  make  every  man's  dollar  two 
instead  of  one. 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  61 

While  this  discussion  was  in  progress,  two 
women  in  a  pleasant  home  not  far  away,  were 
sitting  together  in  earnest  conversation.  The 
elder  of  the  two  was  calm,  but  very  serious  ;  the 
younger,  flushed,  excited  and  in  tears.  They 
were  mother  and  daughter — the  wife  and  child 
of  Mr.  Roger  Lyman. 

Mrs.  Lyman  was  a  woman  past  forty.  She 
had  a  refined,  intelligent  face,  all  the  features 
of  which  were  clearly  cut.  Her  dark-hazel  eyes 
were  large  and  calm,  with  a  shade  of  trouble  in 
them.  Her  mouth  was  peculiarly  soft  and  sweet 
when  she  smiled,  and  as  marked  in  its  expression 
of  sadness  when  the  smile  faded  off.  And 
yet,  she  was  cheerful  and  loving  in  her  family, 
and  faithful  to  every  duty.  The  daughter  was 
unlike  her  mother,  as  well  in  person  as  in  char 
acter.  Her  eyes  were  blue  and  her  complexion 
fairer ;  and  she  lacked  the  other's  tender,  exqui 
sitely-formed  and  sensitive  mouth. 

"  You  are  both  too  young,  Marie,  to 
think  of  an  engagement.  Your  father  and  I 


62  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

must  withhold  our  consent ;  at  least  for  the 
present." 

"  Frank  is  twenty-one  and  I  am  nearly 
eighteen,"  answered  the  girl ;  "  and  we  have 
known  each  other  ever  since  we  were  children." 

"  All  very  true,  my  daughter.  Still,  there  are 
reasons  why  we  must  insist  upon  your  deferring 
an  engagement." 

"  What  reasons,  mother  ?" 

"  My  fear  is,  that  you  will  neither  understand 
nor  appreciate  them,  Marie." 

"What  are  they,  mother?  Have  you  heard 
anything  against  Frank  ?" 

"No;  but  from  what  I  see  of  him,  and  know 
of  his  character  and  habits,  I  do  not  feel  satis 
fied." 

"Character  and  habits,  mother!"  The  girl's 
eyes  flashed,  and  there  was  a  thrill  of  quick,  stir 
ring  indignation  in  her  voice.  "  I  don't  under 
stand  what  you  mean." 

"'Lack  of  character  I  might  have  said.  So 
far  he  has  developed  no  clear  purpose  in  life.  He 


THE    ENEMY    IN   COUNCIL.  63 

seems  content  to  drift  along  with  the  current  into 
which  he  has  been  thrown,  and  let  it  bear  him 
where  it  may.  To  live  on  his  father,  instead  of 
making  a  way  in  life  for  himself." 

"  You  are  unjust  to  Frank,"  replied  the  daugh 
ter,  "  he  wants  to  study  law ;  but  his  father 
won't  hear  to  it,  and  insists  on  his  going  into  the 
shoe  factory.  Frank  has  no  taste  for  this  busi 
ness  and  no  heart  in  it." 

"  And  so  idles  a  great  part  of  his  time,  forming 
habits  that  will,  in  all  probability,  go  with  him 
through  life.  I  don't  like  it,  Marie.  As  for  the 
law,  I  doubt  his  possession  of  the  mental  qualities 
that  are  required  for  success  at  the  bar." 

"  You  misj  udge  him,  mother." 

"  No.  My  love  for  my  daughter  makes  my 
observation  keen-sighted.  I  have  watched  him 
closely ;  and  believe  I  understand  him.  Not 
until  I  see  him  take  hold  of  his  life-work  in  real 
earnest,  will  his  suit  find  favor  in  my  eyes." 

"  What  is  he  to  do,  mother  ?  His  father  will 
not  hear  to  his  studying  law." 


64  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  Settle  the  question  of  his  work  or  profession, 
and  enter  upon  the  business  of  his  life,  whatever 
it  may  be,  in  real  earnest.  Until  he  does  this, 
my  consent  to  an  engagement  cannot  be  had ; 
and  I  know  that  your  father's  views  are  in  agree 
ment  with  mine." 

A  passionate  burst  of  tears  was  Marie's  re 
sponse.  The  mother's  pale  face  grew  somewhat 
paler  as  she  looked  at  her  weeping  child ;  and 
lines  of  sadness  drew  closer  about  her  quiet 
mouth.  She  waited  until  this  ebullition  of  feel 
ing  had  spent  itself  and  then  said,  speaking 
slowly  and  with  great  seriousness  of  manner, 

"  Beyond  Frank's  lack  of  any  real  purpose  in 
life,  lies  another  thing  that  troubles  me.  I  wish 
it  were  in  my  power  to  make  you  see  this,  in  the 
light  that  I  see  it,  my  daughter.  He  is  not  only 
self-indulgent,  but  inclined  to  yield  too  easily  to 
the  allurements  of  appetite.  He  likes  eating  and 
drinking  too  well." 

"  Drinking,  mother  !     Frank  doesn't  drink  !" 

"  I  say   eating  and  drinking,  to  express  my 


THE    ENEMY   IN   COUNCIL.  65 

meaning.  His  mere  sensual  life  is  too  strong  for 
what  is  higher  and  nobler  in  his  nature,  and  the 
great  danger  is  that  it  may -gain  the  ascendancy 
over  him.  Under  circumstances  of  allurement, 
he  will  drift  easily  away  on  the  currents  of  pleas 
ure  that  bear  men  out  of  the  regions  of  safety. 
If  he  had  decision  and  strength  of  character;  if 
some  ruling  purpose  in  life  were  beginning  to 
show  itself;  if  I  saw  that  he  was  coming  under 
the  government  of  a  manly  reason,  I  would  have 
more  hope  in  his  future.  But  as  he  is,  so  I 
must  judge  him,  Marie ;  and  I  cannot  but  fear 
for  his  future.  To  have  your  life  bound  to  his 
life,  in  all  this  doubtful  future,  is  something  that 
appals  me  when  I  think  of  it.  It  might  come 
out  well ;  but  as  I  look  at  it,  the  chances  are  all 
on  the  adverse  side." 

"  I  cannot  understand  you,  mother.  You 
wrong  Frank.  He  is  good  and  true ;  and  no 
man  could  be  more  tender  and  loving  than  he 
will  be.  He  is  not  coarse  and  hard,  like  Charley 
Fithian,  nor  quick  and  passionate  like  Henry 


66  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

Irwin ;  nor  jealous  and  exacting  like  Mr.  Gris- 
com,  who  is  engaged  to  Fanny  Stewart." 

"  No,  Marie ;  but  if  he  had  something  of  the 
strength  and  decision  of  character  shown  by 
either  of  these  young  men,  I  would  have  more 
confidence  in  his  future.  In  his  weak  good 
nature  lies  much  of  his  danger.  He  belongs  to 
a  class  that  is  more  inclined  to  drift  with  the 
stream  than  to  pull  resolutely  against  it ;  and 
the  drifts  of  life  are  too  often  towards  the  whirl 
pools  of  sensual  indulgence  in  which  thousands 
find  shipwreck  every  year.  It  is  my  opinion, 
daughter — and  I  will  express  it  now — that  if 
young  men  were  as  much  exposed  to  temptation 
in  Brantly  as  they  are  in  other  towns,  Frank 
would,  ere  this,  have  acquired  a  taste  for  liquor." 

A  flash  of  indignant  surprise  leaped  across  the 
girl's  face  ;  followed  by  a  fresh  burst  of  tears. 

"His  safety,"  added  Mrs.  Lyman,  as  her 
daughter  grew  calm,  "  lies  in  his  freedom  from 
temptation.  But  he  cannot  have  this  freedom 
always.  I  would  tremble  for  him  if  there  were 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  67 

as  many  open  bar-rooms  hero  as  in  other  places ; 
for  he  is  social,  and  weak,  as  I  have  said,  on  the 
sensual  side  of  his  nature  ;  and  his  lack  of  an 
earnest  purpose  in  life  only  increases  his  peril." 

They  heard  the  door  bell  ring,  and  a  few  mo 
ments  afterwards  the  familiar  voice  of  the  person 
about  whom  they  were  talking  sounded  along 
the  hall.  Marie  made  a  hurried  effort  to  remove 
all  traces  of  tears  and  excitement  before  <roin£ 

o  O 

down  to  meet  her  lover. 

The  young  man  who  awaited  her  in  the  parlor 
was  fresh  and  boyish  in  appearance.  His  clear 
blue  eyes  shone  with  a  pleasant  light;  he  had  a 
ruddy  face,  full  rounded  lips,  and  a  skin  that  was 
line  and  soft  almost  as  a  baby's.  You  could  see 
at  a  glance  that  Mrs.  Ly man's  estimate  of  his 
character  was  in  the  right  direction.  There 
were  no  evidences  of  strength  or  purpose  about 
him.  If  circumstances  were  all  favorable,  he 
might  become  a  successful  man ;  if  unfavorable, 
he  would  scarcely  have  strength  to  rise  above 


05  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

them   and  make  his  way  in  spite  of  what  was 
adverse  and  uncongenial. 

lie  waited  rather  longer  than  usual  for  Marie, 
and  when  she  came  in,  caught  her  hand  quickly 
and  looked  at  her  with  a  tender  concern  in  his 
eyes;  for  he  saw  that  something  was  troubling 
her.  The  girl  made  an  effort  to  control  her  feel 
ings;  but  could  not  keep  back  the  tears  that 
came  pressing  through  her  half-closed  eyelids. 

"  Why  Marie,  dear !"  the  young  man  ex 
claimed.  "  What  is  it  ?  What  has  happened  ?" 

Some  moments  passed  before  she  could  trust 
her  voice  to  speak.  She  then  communicated  to 
Sylvester  so  much  of  what  had  passed  between 
herself  and  her  mother  as  related  to  his  lack  of 
any  well-defined  purpose  in  life ;  and  gave  him  to 
understand  that  he  would  not  be  regarded  by  her 
parents  with  favor  until  he  gave  himself  earn 
estly  to  some  business  or  profession. 

"What  am  I  to  do?"  was  his  reply.  "My 
preference  is  for  the  law,  but  father  will  not 
hear  to  it.  I  have  no  taste  for  his  business — no 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  69 

heart  in  it.     The  very  sight  of  the  shoe  factory 
gives  me  a  shiver." 

He  spoke  weakly,  and  in  a  fretful  tone.  Marie 
did  not  answer.  But  tears  came  into  her  eyes 
again  and  commenced  dropping  over  her  cheeks. 
"For  your  sake  I  will  do  anything,  Marie 
dear!  Give  up  all  thoughts  of  the  law,  and 
make  a  slave  of  myself  in  the  factory  !" 

"  If  you  could  only  be  content  in  the  business, 
Frank.  And  you  know  that  your  father  has  set 
his  heart  on  it." 

The  young  man  shook  his  head.  "  The  very 
smell  of  leather  makes  me  sick.  Faugh  !"  An 
expression  of  disgust  marred  all  the  lines  in  his 
boyish  face.  "But  no  matter,"  he  added,  "Til 
settle  myself  down  to  the  business  for  your  sake ; 
and  your  father  and  mother  shall  see  that  there 
is  work  in  me." 

"  If  you  only  would,  Frank !  And  you  will 
find  it  so  much  easier  than  the  law.  The  busi 
ness  is  all  made  to  your  hand.  No  waiting  for 


70  THE    BATl-KOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

years,  as  in  a  profession;  and  no  hard  struggle  to 
achieve  success." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  he  replied  : 
"  There's  a  great  deal  in  that,  of  course.  This 
waiting  for  half  a  lifetime  before  one  gets  fairly 
started  isn't  a  pleasant  thing  to  contemplate. 
The  easier  and  plainer  way  may  after  all  be  the 
best  way.  At  any  rate,  there  seems  to  be  only 
this  course  open  to  me.  I  give  up  and  submit." 

He  kissed  Marie's  rosy  lips,  and  saw  to  his 
delight  a  sunny  smile  light  up  her  countenance. 

"And  you  are  really  in  earnest  about  this, 
Frank,"  said  the  girl,  as  she  drew  closely  to  his 
side,  and  gazed  at  him  fondly. 

"  Of  course  I  am.  Anything  in  the  world  to 
make  you  happy." 

But  Marie  was  not  wholly  satisfied.  She  could 
not  be.  Her  lover's  infirmity  of  will  was  some 
thing  with  which  she  had  already  become  famil 
iar  ;  and  what  her  mother  had  said  about  his 
weakness  of  character,  and  lack  of  an  earnest 
purpose  in  life,  was  too  fresh  in  her  memory  to 


THE    ENEMY    IN    COUNCIL.  71 

be  pushed  aside.  How  much  he  would  do,  and 
how  much  sacrifice  in  order  to  secure  her  happi 
ness,  were  things  impossible  to  know ;  and  her 
clearer  intuitions  held  her  back  from  trusting  in 
them  too  strongly.  Not  until  now  had  the  ques 
tion  of  her  future  life,  as  bound  up  in  his  life, 
assumed  in  her  mind  an  aspect  of  sober  import 
ance.  All  this  future  had  looked  so  sunny  and 
beautiful.  There  had  been  no  cloud  in  the  sky, 
and  no  blight  on  the  flowers.  But  a  shadow  had 
fallen  on  everything,  and  she  felt  its  chill  creep 
ing  into  her  heart. 

Of  the  two,  Marie  Lyman  had  the  stronger 
and  more  positive  character.  But  she  loved 
Frank  with  girlish  ardor ;  and  this  had  made  her 
tolerant  of  his  faults,  if  not  wholly  blind  to 
them.  Now,  as  though  a  veil  had  been  suddenly 
removed,  she  saw  them  in  well-defined  propor 
tions.  Her  mother's  clearer  sight  had  come  to 
her  own  eyes  ;  and  the  pressure  of  concern  which 
had  lain  on  her  mother's  heart  was  beginning  to 
rest  upon  her  own.  The  blind  passion  of  the 


72  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

girl  was  giving  place  to  the  clearer  intuitions  of 
the  woman. 

One  suggestion  of  her  mother's — she  had  re 
jected  it  almost  indignantly  when  made — set 
her  thoughts  in  a  new  direction,  and  left  an  un 
pleasant  weight  on  her  feelings.  It  was  the 
suggestion  of  Frank's  danger  should  he  ever  be 
exposed  to  the  allurements  of  drink.  She  knew 
that  he  was  weak,  and  that  appetite,  if  ever 
indulged,  would  easily  gain  the  mastery  over 
him.  She  was  already  beginning  to  look  at  him 
through  her  mother's  eyes ;  yet  not  with  any 
feeling  of  coldness.  The  difference  in  her  feel 
ings  because  of  her  clearer  sight,  was  that  they 
were  growing  tenderer  and  truer  in  this  newly- 
awakened  concern. 


THE    GREAT    HOTEL   PROJECT.  73 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  GREAT  HOTEL  PROJECT. 

"ORANTLY  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement ;  and 
the  most  excited  man  in  town  was  Mr.  Percy 
Norman.  Whispers  and  intimations  of  some 
thing  wrong  were  floating  on  the  air.  Dennis 
Fithian  had  made  an  offer  of  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  for  the  large  corner  lot  opposite  Grover's 
Hotel,  and  after  some  chaffering  with  the  owner, 
the  property  was  about  changing  hands  for  the 
sum  of  eighteen  hundred  dollars. 

"  What  does  Fithian  want  with  this  property  ?" 
was  the  question  that  passed  naturally  from  lip 
to  lip,  when  it  became  known  that  he  was  trying 
to  purchase  the  lot  opposite  to  Grover's  Hotel. 
There  were  only  two  men  besides  Fithian  who 


74  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

really  knew  what  was  in  his  mind.  These  were 
Mr.  Lyman,  the  lawyer,  and  Andrew  Hyer,  who 
still  remained  a  guest  at  the  Fountain  Inn, 
though  over  a  week  had  elapsed  since  he  entered 
his  name  on  the  hotel  register.  He  had  been 
reserved  in  speech  since  the  day  of  his  arrival, 
and,  as  some  thought,  mysterious  in  his  actions; 
visiting  the  establishment  of  Grubb  &  Fithian 
every  morning ;  and  spending  his  evenings  with 
the  last-named  member  of  the  firm,  with  whom 
he  evidently  had  a  good  understanding  about 
something, 

Mr.  Norman  had  felt,  from  the  first,  that,  in 
some  way,  this  man  Ilyer's  appearance  in  Brantly 
boded  no  good  to  the  town  ;  and  his  prolonged 
stay  and  intimacy  with  Dennis  Fithian  only  in 
creased  the  vague  concern  that  was  troubling 
him.  When,  therefore,  it  became  known  that 
the  latter  was  about  purchasing  the  lot  of  ground 
to  which  reference  has  been  made,  a  suspicion  of 
the  real  object  in  view  flashed  on  the  mind  of 
Mr.  Norman,  and  his  convictions  on  the  subject 


THE    GREAT    HOTEL    PROJECT.  75 

were  so  strong  that  he  accepted  them  as  true, 
and  acted  \vith  promptness.  The  property  In- 
longed  to  a  man  named  Albright.  He  was  owner 
of  the  saw-mill  which  supplied  lumber  for  build 
ing  purposes  to  all  the  neighborhood  for  miles 
around.  The  relations  existing  between  him 
and  Mr.  Norman  were  of  the  most  friendly  char 
acter. 

"  Good-morning,  friend  Albright,"  said  the 
latter,  as  he  entered  the  little  business  office 
attached  to  the  saw-mill.  There  was  a  flush  on 
the  old  man's  face,  and  an  unusual  nervousness 
apparent  in  his  manner. 

"Ah,  good-morning!  good-morning,  Mr.  Nor 
man  !  Glad  to  see  you.  Pleasant  day ;  cool, 
and  crisp,  and  seasonable.  Had  a  sharp  frost 
last  night ;  the  ground  looked  as  white  at  sun 
rise  as  if  a  spit  of  snow  had  Mien.  Sit  down  !" 
And  he  offered  his  visitor  a  chair. 

As  Mr.  Norman  reached  his  hand  to  take  the 
chair,  Mr.  Albright  saw  that  it  trembled  ;  and 


76  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

he  became  aware  that  his  old  friend  was  in  a 
state  of  repressed  excitement. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  he  asked.  "  You  seem 
to  be  in  a  kind  of  flurry.  Nothing  gone  wrong 
anywhere  ?" 

"  I've  just  heard,"  answered  Mr.  Norman, 
coining  at  once  to  the  object  of  his  visit,  "  that 
you've  had  an  offer  for  that  property  in  the 
centre  of  the  town." 

"  Yes  ;  Fithian  wants  it." 

"  So  I'm  told.     Have  you  accepted  his  offer  ?" 

"  Not  finally.  We  have  partly  agreed  on 
eighteen  hundred  dollars,  but  nothing  is  yet 
settled." 

"  Oh,  I'm  glad  of  that.  You  don't  stand  com 
mitted  to  Fithian  in  any  way  ?" 

"  Not  as  I  understand  it.  I  set  my  figures 
at  two  thousand  dollars ;  he  offered  fifteen  hun 
dred.  We  have  had  several  interviews ;  and 
eighteen  hundred  is  the  price  he  is  now  willing 
to  pay.  I  am  to  give  him  my  answer  this  after 


noon." 


THE  GREAT  HOTEL  PROJECT.  77 

"  What  will  it  be  ?" 

"  I  shall  probably  accept  his  offer." 

"  That  is,  if  you  do  not  get  a  better  one  ?" 

"  Exactly  so." 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  offer  you  two  thousand 
dollars?" 

u  You  ?"     In  some  surprise. 

"  Yes." 

44  What  do  you  want  with  that  property,  Mr. 
Norman  ?" 

"  What  does  Pithian  want  with  it  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  do  not  know.  But  he's  got  some 
project  in  his  head." 

"  Did  he  give  you  no  intimation  of  what  he 
intended  doing  with  it  T 

"  No.  I  asked  him ;  but  his  reply  was  that 
he  wanted  to  put  out  some  money,  and  thought 
this  would  be  a  good  investment." 

"  Well,  friend  Albright,  to  come  straight  to 
business,  I  want  this  property,  and  will  take  it 
at  two  thousand  dollars." 

"  I  wish  you  had  come  to  me  before,"  said  the 


78  TIIE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

neighbor,  bis  manner  growing  serious.  "  If  I 
should  accept  your  offer  without  first  speaking 
with  Fithian,  I  would  only  get  his  ill-will-;  and 
you  know  what  a  vindictive  sort  of  a  man  he 
is." 

"As  I  understand  it,  you  are  not  in  any 
way  committed  to  Fithian." 

"  I  did  not,  in  so  many  words,  accept  his  offer 
of  eighteen  hundred  dollars  :  but  we  have  been 
talking  about  the  matter  for  two  or  three  days, 
and  he  will  think  himself  badly  treated  if  I 
should  sell  the  property  without  giving  him  a 
chance." 

u  Then,  if  he  should  offer  to  pay  two  thousand, 
you  would  give  him  the  preference." 

"  Ought  I  not  to  do  so,  Mr.  Norman  ?  Would 
it  be  treating  him  right,  as  things  stand,  for  me 
to  sell  the  lot  to  another  for  a  price  he  is  willing 
to  pay  ?  You  see,  we  are  j  ust  on  the  eve  of  clos 
ing  the  bargain." 

Mr.  Norman's  face  grew  troubled.  He  did  not 
reply. 


THE  GREAT  HOTEL  PROJECT.  79 

"  If  I  had  only  known  that  you  wished  to  buy 
this  property,  you  should  have  had  it  without  a 
word.  But  as  tilings  stand  now,  I  am  not  free 
to  bargain  with  you  until  I  have  seen  Fithian." 

"  If  he  should  offer  two  thousand  dollars,  will 
you  see  me  before  closing  with  him?" 

"  Certainly.  There's  no  hurry  about  the 
matter." 

When  Fithian  called  on  Mr.  Albright  for  the 
purpose  of  getting  his  final  answer,  he  was  told 
that  Mr.  Norman  would  take  the  property  at 
two  thousand  dollars.  His  surprise  was  great, 
and  his  indignation  greater;  for  he  understood 
just  what  this  meant.  Once  before  Mr.  Norman 
had  thrown  himself  across  his  path.  In  that 
instance  he  had  so  completely  barred  his  way, 
that  to  go  forward  was  impossible ;  for  then  he 
was  young  and  poor,  and  without  friends  and 
influence.  For  this,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had 
never  forgiven  Mr.  Norman,  and  was  only  wait 
ing  for  an  opportunity  to  try  conclusions  with 
him  again.  And  now  he  felt  that  his  oppor- 


80          THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

tunity  was  at  hand.  He  had  grown  strong,  and 
rich,  and  influential.  His  money  had  given  him 
standing  with  the  best  people  in  Brantly.  The 
very  fact  that  Mr.  Norman  was  moving  across 
his  path,  and  setting  himself  in  the  way  of  his 
hotel  project,  only  made  stronger  his  purpose  to 
carry  out  this  project.  He  would  do  it,  he  said  to 
himself,  if  only  to  let  this  man  see  who  was 
strongest  in  Brantly  now. 

"  We  had  agreed  upon  eighteen  hundred.  That 
was  settled,"  he  replied,  with  considerable 
warmth  of  manner,  when  Mr.  Albright  had 
informed  him  that  he  could  get  two  thousand 
dollars  for  the  lot  of  ground. 

"  No  ;  I  said  that  I  would  give  you  an  answer 
to-day." 

"  Who  offered  you  two  thousand  dollars  ? 
Not  Mr.  Lyman!" 

"  No." 

"  Is  the  party  responsible  ?" 

"  Perfectly.     It  will  be  cash  down." 

"  What  does  he  want  with  it?" 


THE  GREAT  HOTEL  PROJECT.  81 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Who  is  the  man  ?  Or,  are  you  just  playing 
with  me  in  order  to  get  more  for  the  property 
than  it  is  worth  ;  that  is,  if  I  should  be  fool 
enough  to  buy  it  at  your  figures  ?" 

"  I've  never  lied  for  money  so  far,"  Mr.  Al 
bright  answered,  with  honest  indignation  flash 
ing  from  his  eyes ;  "  and  it's  rather  too  late  to 
begin.  Mr.  Norman  is  the  man,  if  you  wish  to 
know." 

"  Mr.  Norman  !"  Fithian's  surprise  sent,  for  a 
moment,  the  color  out  of  his  face. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Norman.  And  you  can  always 
count  on  his  word." 

A  bitter  execration  broke  from  Fithian's  lips ; 
and  in  the  excitement  that  followed  he  so  far 
lost  all  sense  of  worldly  prudence  as  to  declare 
that  Norman  should  not  have  the  property  if  he 
paid  twice  two  thousand  dollars  for  it — a  declara 
tion  that  Mr.  Albright  did  not  fail  to  note. 

"  You'll  give  me  the  refusal  of  course,"  said 
Fithian,  as  soon  as  his  anger  had  cooled  down. 
6 


82  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

"  The  property  is  not  really  worth  so  much ;  but 
I'll  take  it  at  your  original  figures  ;  and  here's 
a  hundred  dollars  to  bind  the  bargain." 

He  drew  out  his  pocket-book  as  he  spoke,  and 
selecting  a  bank-bill,  reached  it  towards  Mr.  Al 
bright.  But  that  person  declined  taking  the  bill 
from  his  hand, 

"  I  claim  the  refusal.  It  would  be  neither 
right  nor  neighborly  to  let  Norman  have  the 
property  if  I  stand  ready  to  pay  as  much  as  he 
will  give." 

"  You  shall  have  the  refusal,  Mr.  Fithian.  I 
am  willing  to  say  that  much." 

"  Very  well.  I'll  take  it  at  the  price  Norman 
has  offered." 

"  Or  may  offer  ?"  queried  Mr.  Albright. 

The  angry  stains  came  back  into  Fithian's 
face ;  and  another  imprecation  on  Mr.  Norman's 
head  fell  from  his  lips. 

"  Yes !  For  every  dollar  he  puts  down 
I'll " 

But  Fithian  checked  himself ;  for  his  worldly 


THE  GREAT  HOTEL  PROJECT.  83 

prudence  was  beginning  to  rebuke  his  weak  pas 
sion.  He  was  showing  too  great  eagerness  about 
the  property. 

"  No,  I  won't  say  that,  either.  If  the  whining 
old  idiot  offers  more  than  two  thousand  dollars 
for  the  lot,  you'd  better  take  him  up.  There 
are  other  properties  in  Brantly  that  can  be  had 
for  lower  figures,  any  one  of  which  will  suit  me 
quite  as  well." 

"  Then,  if  I  understand  you,  Mr.  Fithian,  I 
am  free  to  close  with  Mr.  Norman  should  he 
advance  beyond  two  thousand  dollars  ?" 

"  Yes — certainly  !     Let  him  have  it !" 

Then,  as  one  who  reconsiders  a  matter,  Fithian 
said,  with  a  reflective  air,  "  No ;  you  had  better 
see  me  again  should  he  increase  his  offer." 

"  Very  well.  If  Mr.  Norman  bids  higher,  I 
will  let  you  know.  If  not,  the  property  is  yours 
at  two  thousand  dollars." 

But  Mr.  Norman,  as  Fithian  felt  very  certain 
would  be  the  case,  did  go  higher,  advancing  his 
offer  to  twenty-five  hundred  dollars. 


84  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

By  this  time,  as  intimated  at  the  beginning 
of  the  present  chapter,  all  Brantly  was  in  a  fever 
of  excitement.  There  was  scarcely  a  man,  woman 
or  child  who  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Fithian  was 
trying  to  purchase  the  large  lot  of  ground  oppo 
site  the  Fountain  Inn,  and  that  Mr.  Norman  was 
bidding  against  him — each  resolved  to  secure  the 
property.  With  every  one  on  the  alert,  and 
query,  and  suggestion  passing  from  lip  to  lip,  it 
is  not  surprising  that  the  truth  found  its  way  to 
the  surface.  Before  this  contest  between  the 
two  men  was  over,  all  Brantly  knew  that  a  great 
hotel  had  been  projected,  and  that  it  was  to  be 
built  in  the  very  centre  of  the  town,  should 
Fithian  be  successful  in  his  efforts  to  secure  the 
lot  owned  by  Mr.  Albright.  Almost  immediately 
two  parties  began  forming  ;  and  the  question  as 
to  the  effect  of  a  large  and  well  appointed  hotel 
on  the  material  interests  of  the  town  was 
warmly  discussed  by  the  people. 

Most  of  the  business  men  and  property  holders 
were,  either  openly  or  secretly,  in  favor  of  the 


THE    GREAT    HOTEL    PROJECT.  85 

scheme.  Mr.  Lyman  was  very  guarded  in  speech 
at  first ;  but  as  he  carefully  noted  the  expression 
of  public  sentiment,  and  observed  the  drift  of 
feeling,  he  let  his  influence  and  arguments  be 
come  more  and  more  pronounced,  until,  in  the 
end,  he  was  among  the  strongest  advocates  of  the 
new  hotel,  and  the  new  order  of  things  that  must 
in  his  view  surely  follow  its  erection. 

Mr.  Lyman  was  a  man  of  weight  in  Brantly. 
As  he  went,  so  went  a  large  number;  and  soon 
the  specious  arguments  used  by  him  in  discussing 
the  subject  were  repeated  from  one  to  another, 
and  widely  accepted  as  true,  .especially  by  the 
young  men  of  the  town,  who  were  sick  of  the 
dull  and  stupid  place,  and  elated  over  the  visions 
of  progress  and  contact  with  the  living  world 
that  were  presented  to  their  minds. 

For  more  than  a  week  the  bidding  and  counter 
bidding  went  on.  The  people  waited  with  in 
tense  interest  for  the  result,  while  the  two  par 
ties  which  had  been  formed  assumed  more  dis 
tinctive  features,  and  set  themselves  in  stronger 


86  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

opposition  to  each  other.  Gradually  the  truth 
forced  itself  upon  the  mind  of  Mr.  Norman. 
The  weight  of  public  feeling  was  against  him. 
He  no  longer  held  a  controlling  influence  in 
Brantly  ! 

"He's  a  nuisance  and  must  be  put  down !" 
"  It's  a  shame  !     Setting  himself  in  the  way  of 
progress !" 

"  A  perfect  incubus  on  Brantly  !" 
"  The  days  of  old  fogyism  are  numbered  !" 
So  the  changes  were  rung.  It  was  hardly 
possible  for  so  much  to  be  said  against  Mr.  Nor 
man  as  was  said  in  the  heat  of  discussion,  with 
out  some  of  it  coming  to  his  ears.  The  tide  had 
turned  suddenly  and  he  felt  it  bearing  strongly 
against  him.  He  stood  up  bravely  and  manfully; 
but  the  tide  swept  in  upon  and  around  him,  and 
he  saw,  with  a  sad  heart,  that  to  stem  it  was  im 
possible.  Mammon  was  against  him.  Every 
owner  of  real  estate  in  Brantly  was  to  have  the 
value  of  his  property  doubled ;  and  every  busi 
ness  man  saw  his  gains  increasing.  The  new 


THE    GREAT    HOTEL    PROJECT.  87 

hotel  would  bring  an  influx  of  strangers  ;  and 
before  a  year  had  passed  the  town  would  be  in 
railroad  connection  with  New  York  and  other 
large  cities. 

Already  the  price  of  real  estate  had  begun  to 
rise ;  and  many  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  that 
its  value,  under  the  mere  prospect  of  getting  a 
new  hotel,  had  advanced  at  least  twenty  per 
cent. 

Mr.  Norman  was  about  to  make  an  offer  of 
five  thousand  dollars  for  the  lot  of  ground,  when 
he  discovered  that  Fithian  had  opened  negotia 
tions  for  another  piece  of  land.  Satisfied  now 
that  he  could  not  prevent  the  consummation  of 
a  scheme  that  he  felt  sure  would  bring  many  sad 
disasters  upon  the  town  he  withdrew  from  the 
contest,  leaving  his  opponent  to  take  the  pro 
perty  for  the  sum  of  four  thousand  eight  hundred 
dollars,  which  was  promptly  paid,  and  the  site 
secured. 

Mingled  with  the  triumph  that  swelled  the 
heart  of  Dennis  Fithian,  was  a  feeling  of  anger 


88  THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

against  Mr.  Norman,  and  a  purpose  to  have  his 
revenge. 

"He  might  just  as  well  have  put  his  hand 
into  my  pocket  and  taken  out  three  thousand  dol 
lars  !"  Was  his  declared  statement  of  the  case, 
"  and  I'll  have  it  out  of  him,  see  if  I  don't ! 
He  imagined  that  he  owned  Barntly — was  cock 
of  the  walk !  But  he  knows  another  thing 
now !" 

Immediately  on  securing  the  ground  on  which 
to  build,  half  a  dozen  of  the  leading  men  in  town 
who  had  suddenly  awakened  to  a  consciousness 
of  the  fact  that  they  had  been  asleep  while  the 
rest  of  the  world  was  wide  awake  and  taking 
step  with  the  progressive  movement  of  the  age, 
met  together  and  organized  the  "  Brantly  Hotel 
Company,"  with  a  nominal  capital  of  one  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars.  Mr.  Lyman  was  elected 
president  of  the  company,  and  Dennis  Fithian 
treasurer.  In  due  time  a  charter  was  obtained, 
and  the  books  opened  for  subscription  to  the 
stock,  which  was  to  be  paid  by  instalments,  as 


THE    GREAT    HOTEL    PROJECT.  89 

money  was  needed  for  building  purposes. 
Twenty  per  cent,  was  required  to  be  paid  in 
on  receipt  of  stock  certificates,  in  order  to  secure 
funds  for  a  prompt  commencement  of  the  work. 

The  tide  was  setting  all  one  way  now,  and 
those  who  did  not  go  with  it,  were  tossed  aside 
into  eddies,  where,  for  the  time,  they  drifted 
about  helplessly. 

Within  a  month,  ground  was  broken  for  the 
new  hotel,  plans  and  specifications  for  which  had 
been  obtained  from  a  celebrated  New  York 
architect.  In  the  office  of  the  company  was  to 
be  seen  a  finished  drawing  of  the  hotel,  which 
.  was  certainly  a  grand  and  imposing  affair.  In 
order  to  give  the  beholder  an  impression  of  its 
largeness  and  elegance,  the  architect  had  been 
instructed  to  introduce  the  "  Fountain  Inn"  into 
his  drawing,  and  to  dwarf  its  dimensions  while 
he  exaggerated  those  of  the  new  hotel  standing 
opposite.  The  contrast  was  very  striking,  and 
gave  an  impression  of  meanness  and  shabbiness 
on  the  one  side,  and  of  imposing  grandeur  on  the 


90  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

other.  For  the  first  time,  the  people  of  Brantly 
began  to  feel  ashamed  of  their  public  house,  and 
to  speak  of  it  as  a  relic  of  non-progressive  past. 

All  the  best  masons  and  carpenters  within  a 
distance  of  ten  miles  around  obtained  work  on 
the  new  building,  and  were  able  to  get  an  advance 
of  wages  over  the  old  prices.  Money  became 
more  plentiful  among  the  people,  and  circulated 
freely  from  hand  to  hand.  A  tide  of  prosperity, 
such  as  it  had  never  known,  was  setting  in  upon 
Brantly ;  and  the  now  wide-awake  town  was 
happy.  Even  before  the  foundations  of  the 
"  Brantly  House,"  were  fairly  laid,  the  railroad 
project  was  under  discussion,  and  some  of  the 
most  sanguine  saw  the  iron  track  stretching 
fur  away  to  the  sea-board,  and  heard  the  greeting 
whistle  of  the  locomotive  as  it  bore  in  upon  the 
town  its  long  train  of  cars  full  freighted  with 
passengers  and  merchandise. 

There  were  a  few  clear-headed  and  far-seeing 
men  in  Brantly,  who  were  not  able  to  discover 
in  a  new  and  splendidly-equipped  hotel,  with 


THE    (ill  WAT    HOTEL    PROJECT.  01 

rooms  enough  to  accommodate  nearly  two  hun 
dred  guests,  a  source  of  wealth  and  prosperity  to 
the  people ;  nor  in  the  talked  of  railroad  a  pro 
mising  investment  for  their  money.  But  not 
many  came  over  to  their  way  of  thinking.  Had 
not  the  waves  of  prosperity  already  begun  to  set 
in,  though  the  walls  of  the  new  building  were 
scarcely  yet  above  the  ground?  All  the 
mechanics  in  town  were  hard  at  work  and  earn 
ing  good  wages  ;  and  what  was  more,  spending 
their  wages  at  the  stores,  and  making  money  more 
plentiful  than  it  had  been  at  any  time  within 
the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant.  Added 
to  this,  was  an  unusual  influx  of  strangers  from 
New  York  and  other  places,  who  were  in  some 
way  connected  with  the  new  hotel  scheme,  or  who 
came  hither  in  the  hope  of  getting  some  advan 
tage  out  of  it ;  so  that  Jacob  Grover's  modest 
house  of  entertainment  was  often  taxed  to  its 
full  capacity,  These  were  solid  facts  against 
which  argument  was  broken  to  pieces. 


92  1IYE11    OPENS    A    SALOON. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON. 

rilHOUGH  discomfited,  disheartened  and  dis 
tressed,  Mr.  Norman  did  not  let  his  hands 
fall  listlessly,  nor  his  voice  sink  into  silence.  A 
watchman  on  the  wall  of  the  city,  he  saw  the 
sword  corning,  and  did  not  fail  to  send  forth  his 
cry  of  warning  to  the  people ;  and  his  cry  was 
the  more  earnest  as  he  saw  the  peril  became  more 
and  more  imminent. 

According  to  contract,  the  new  hotel  was  to 
be  ready  for  guests  in  six  months  after  the  ground 
was  broken,  which  was  in  the  month  of  Septem 
ber.  But,  when  the  next  March  came,  the  pro 
mise  of  completion  did  not  lie  within  two  or 
three,  or  even  four  months.  Things  had  not 


HYER    OPENS    A   SADOON.  93 

gone  exactly  in  the  line  of  the  programme.  An 
drew  Hyer,  who  was  to  be  manager  of  the  hotel, 
had  talked  largely  of  New  York  capital,  and  of 
the  liberal  subscriptions  he  would  be  able  to  get 
in  that  city.  At  least  half  the  stock  was  to  be 
taken  there;  and  as  shrewd  and  clear-headed  a 
man,  and  as  apt  a  reader  of  human  nature  as 
Roger  Lyman,  Esq.,  suffered  himself  to  credit 
this  coarse  and  specious  pretender  with  the  in 
fluence  in  Wall  street,  which  he  so  boastfully 
claimed.  Of  the  promised  New  York  subscrip 
tions,  only  five  thousand  dollars  were  to  be  found 
on  the  books  of  the  company,  and  these  were 
represented  by  a  single  name,  that  of  Andrew 
Hyer !  On  this  only  the  first  instalment  of 
twenty  per  cent,  had  been  paid. 

The  reader  has  already  guessed  at  the  cause 
of  delay  in  completing  the  new  hotel — lack  of 
funds.  Of  the  fifty  thousand  dollars  subscribed 
in  Brantly  and  neighborhood,  only  twenty-five 
thousand  had  been  paid  in.  As  early  as  the 
month  of  March,  the  whole  of  this  sum  was 


THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

expended ;  and  a  new  instalment  had  to  be  called 
for.  By  this  time,  sober  second  thought  was 
troubling  the  minds  of  most  of  these  sanguine 
projectors.  But  to  stop  where  they  were  and 
abandon  the  hotel  scheme,  was  not  only  to  sink 
the  money  which  had  gone  into  it,  but  to  give 
up  that  future  of  prosperity  for  the  town  on 
which  they  had  built  so  many  golden  hopes.  No, 
this  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  an  instant. 
The  work  must  go  on.  A  new  effort  was  made 
to  sell  stock ;  but  though  it  was  offered  at  a 
discount  of  thirty  per  cent,  on  the  par  value, 
not  a  single  additional  share  could  be  disposed 
of.  Nothing  was  left  but  to  call  in  an  instal 
ment  and  keep  the  work  going. 

The  sober  second  thought,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  led  several  holders  of  the  stock  to  act 
on  the  prudent  maxim,  that  it  is  a  folly  to  send 
good  money  after  bad.  The  consequence  was, 
that  instead  of  paying  in  the  new  instalment 
called  for,  many  of  these  let  their  stock  be 
forfeited. 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  95 

Spring  had  come,  and  unless  the  work  were 
pushed  with  great  vigor,  the  hotel  would  not  be 
in  readiness  for  the  crowd  of  summer  visitors 
that  were  to  come  flocking  into  Brantly  immedi 
ately  on  the  announcement  that  its  grand  hotel 
was  ready  for  the  reception  of  guests.  To  com 
plete  it  on  the  original  plan  was  impossible,  even 
if  there  had  been  sufficient  money  in  the  trea 
sury.  The  best  that  could  be  done  was  to  finish 
and  equip  the  right  wing  of  the  building,  and 
let  the  left  wing  remain  as  it  was  until  the  next 
year.  With  a  careful  and  economical  expendi 
ture  of  money,  which  involved  the  abandonment 
of  quite  a  number  of  imposing  architectural 
features,  and  an  entire  change  in  the  style  of  fur 
nishing,  it  was  thought  that  for  twenty  or  at  most 
for  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  the  hotel  could 
be  made  ready  for  the  reception  of  guests  by  the 
first  of  July.  To  accomplish  this  the  directors 
of  the  company,  under  the  lead  of  Mr.  Lyman 
and  Mr.  Fithian,  set  themselves  vigorously  to 
work.  Instalment  after  instalment  was  called 


96  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

in  rapidly,  resulting  each  time  in  forfeitures  of 
stock  by  weak  or  discouraged  holders,  until 
these  two  men  found  themselves  standing  almost 
alone  under  the  crushing  weight  of  their  magni 
ficent  enterprise.  In  order  to  meet  the  steady 
demand  that  came  in  upon  the  treasurer,  pro 
perty  had  to  be  sold  or  mortgaged,  and  they  saw 
the  substantial  things  in  which  they  had  trusted 
changing  into  the  doubtful  and  unsubstantial. 

Meanwhile,  Andrew  Hyer  had  grown  impa 
tient  of  delay.  There  was  a  ripe  harvest  field 
in  Brantly,  waiting  for  him  who  should  first 
thrust  in  his  sickle — a  township  with  a  popula 
tion  of  several  thousand,  and  not  a  single  open 
bar  in  the  whole  district !  The  people  were 
ready  for  new  ideas  ;  for  more  freedom,  and  for 
progress.  The  excitement  and  discussions  grow 
ing  out  of  the  hotel  project  had  broken  them 
loose  from  the  old  bond  of  prejudice.  Bar-rooms 
'were  not  such  frightful  things  after  all.  The 
"  Brantly  House,"  first  class  in  everything,  was 
to  have  its  stock  of  choice  liquors,  and  its  bar 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  97 

for  their  dispensation.  Why  wait  six  months 
or  a  year  for  an  opportunity  to  make  gain  of  this 
people — all  ready  to  let  the  gain  be  made  ? 
Why  not  begin  their  education  in  intemperance 
at  once,  and  form  and  strengthen  an  appetite 
that  should  waste  their  substance,  and  give  him 
an  opportunity  to  build  for  himself  out  of  this 
waste?  Then  was  not  money  circulating  more 
freely  than  it  had  ever  .circulated  here  before? 
All  things  were  auspicious.  Mr.  Norman  was  of 
no  more  account.  He  might  talk,  and  stir  up  a 
feeble  opposition ;  but  his  influence  was  gone. 
The  people  had  grown  away  from  him. 

Acting  from  these  conclusions,  and  backed  by 
Dennis  Fithian,  Andrew  Hyer  had  thrown  open 
on  the  previous  New  Year's  day  an  elegantly- 
furnished  saloon.  This  opening  day  was  made  a 
free  day,  and  all  Brantly  invited  to  eat  and  drink, 
and  gaze  at  the  glass  and  the  gildings,  the  mar 
ble  and  the  walnut,  to  their  heart's  content. 

The  days  of  non-progressive  stupid  old  fogyism 
7 


98  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

were  past  for  Brantly,  and  men  drank  over  the 
fact,  and  shook  hands  over  the  fact. 

"  At  last  we  have  a  chap  brave  enough  to  take 
this  temperance  bull  by  the  horns,"  said  one, 
speaking  out  his  mind  under  the  influence  of  a 
second  glass. 

"  Here's  to  the  health  of  Percy  Norman  !" 
cried  another,  whose  third  glass  had  made  him  a 
little  reckless. 

But  Brantly,  even  under  the  excitement  of 
Hyer's  free  liquor,  was  not  quite  ready  for  such 
an  insult  to  the  name  of  this  good  old  man,  whom 
the  young  men  present  had  known  from  their 
boyhood,  and  whom  all  respected  for  the  kind 
ness,  integrity  and  open-handed  charity  which 
had  ever  distinguished  him  and  made  him  dear 
to  the  people. 

A  deep  silence  fell  upon  the  noisy  bar-room  ; 
then  a  hiss  cut  the  still  air  sharply,  followed  by 
another  and  another. 

"  He  may  be  a  little  show,  and  behind  the 
times  ;  but  he's  one  of  the  best  men  living,  and 


HYEIl    OPENS    A    SALOON.  99 

you  must  keep  your  hands  off  of  him,  young 
man  !"  spoke  out  one,  addressing  the  person  who 
had  trespassed  too  far  on  the  sentiments  of 
Brantly.  Both  had  been  drinking  more  freely 
than  their  heads,  unused  to  strong  drink,  could 
bear. 

"  Not  yours  to  command !"  was  angrily 
retorted,  "  I'll  say  and  do  what  I  like,  without 
asking  your  leave." 

"  Keep  your  hands  off  of  Mr.  Norman,  young 
man  !  I  have  said  that  and  I  mean  it !" 

Two  faces  were  hot  with  anger;  and  two  pairs 
of  eyes  looked  fiercely  into  each  other. 

u  He  a  sneaking  old  hypocrite;  nosing  about 
after  other  people's  affairs  instead  of  minding  his 
own  !" 

"  You're  a  liar,  and  a  slanderer !"  was  the  pas 
sionate  rejoiner. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  blows  followed;  nor 
that  a  young  man,  who  happened  to  belong 
to  one  of  the  leading  families  in  town,  carried 
with  him,  for  weeks  afterwards,  in  the  shape  of 


100  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

a  black  eye,  the  signs  of  a  drunken  brawl,  as 
among  the  first  fruits  of  the  new  order  of  things 
that  was  to  thereafter  reign  in  Brantly.  There 
were  other  fruits  besides ;  for  the  influx  of  life 
into  this  evil  tree  which  had  been  planted  in 
their  midst  was  very  strong,  and  ripened  the 
fruit  quickly. 

Two  men  wrho  had  been  close  friends  for  years 
fell  into  a  dispute  while  under  the  influence  of 
Hyer's  tempting  liquor ;  then  quarrelled,  almost 
coming  to  blows.  They  had  gone  into  the  new 
saloon  together,  fast  friends ;  they  came  out  with 
a  bitter  feeling  of  wrong  and  antagonism  rank 
ling  in  their  hearts ;  a  feeling  which,  unhappily, 
did  not  die  out  with  the  sober  and  repentant 
morning  that  followed  this  most  unhappy  New 
Year's  day,  but  increased  continually  under  one 
real  or  imagined  provocation  after  another,  until 
the  two  men  found  themselves  in  court,  each 
bent  on  ruining  the  other,  if  possible.  Young 
men  who  had  never  been  under  the  influence  of 
strong  drink  before,  went  home  half  stupefied 


HYER    OPENS,  A    SALOON.  101' 

that  night  to  sadden,  if  not  half  break  the  hearts 
of  those  who  loved  them. 

The  shadow  of  a  great  evil,  which  was  to 
drink  the  blood  of  this  people,  fell  over  the  town 
that  day.  There  was  not  a  man  or  woman  in 
Brantly  who  did  not  feel  the  dusk  and  chill  it 
threw  into  the  air.  To  most  eyes  there  was  a 
changed  aspect  in  everything,  when  the  town 
became  astir  on  the  next  morning.  Many 
took  thought  of  this  change,  half  wondering 
about  it ;  but  many  more  felt  the  change  and 
took  no  thought. 

"  A  grand  success !"  This  was  Dennis  Fithian's 
ejaculation,  as  the  last  man  went  out  of  the 
saloon  on  New  Year's  night,  and  he  stood  alone 
with  his  friend  Andrew  Hyer. 

"  Splendid  !"  was  the  gratified  response. 

"  Poor  Norman  !     He'll  be  heart-broken  !" 

The  two  men  looked  into  each  other's  faces  and 
laughed  triumphantly.  Twenty-four  hours  after 
wards  their  spirits  were  less  jubilant.  The  great 
flood-tide  of  apparent  success  which  had  set  in 


102  THE    BAR-ROQMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

so  strongly,  did  not  return  on  the  second  day. 
The  eclat  of  the  opening  was  past ;  and  there 
was  no  more  free  eating  and  drinking.  In  addi 
tion  to  these  adverse  causes,  was  the  town  talk 
over  the  quarrels  which  had  taken  place  in  the 
saloon,  and  the  estrangements  between  old  friends 
already  grown  out  of  them.  It  was  bad  fruit, 
and  its  bitter  taste  was  in  the  mouth  of  almost 
every  one. 

During  the  forenoon  of  the  second  day  but  few 
persons  ventured  inside  of  Hyer's  saloon.  Some 
threw  it  furtive  glances  in  passing,  and  some 
stopped  for  a  moment  to  take  a  survey  of  its 
gaudy  front  and  inviting  window.  The  first 
day's  doings  therein  had  not  been  altogether 
satisfactory  to  the  people,  and  the  more  cautious 
felt  inclined  to  wait  for  a  clear  expression  of 
public  sentiment  before  being  seen  to  enter  its 
doors  in  the  broad  daylight. 

In  the  afternoon  customers  were  more  fre 
quent;  but  not  until  night  closed  over  the  town 
was  the  state  of  things  at  all  satisfactory  to  Hyer 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  103 

and  his  friend.  There  was  no  jubilation  when 
the  doors  closed  and  the  two  men  were  again 
alone  in  the  silent  bar-room;  but  a  mutual 
strengthening  of  each  other. 

"  A  little  slow,"  said  Hyer,  "  but  111  fetch  'em. 
Never  you  fear  for  that !" 

"  The  thing  was  overdone  yesterday." 

"  Of  course.  It's  always  so  the  first  day  if  you 
go  off  with  a  rush — and  rush  is  the  word.  But 
good  seed  was  sown ;  you  may  count  on  that. 
And  you  may  trust  me  to  gather  in  the  har 
vest." 

"  Oh,  Fin  not  discouraged.  Don't  think  that 
for  a  moment,"  answered  Fithian.  And  yet  for 
all  his  confident  words,  he  was  not  able  to  keep 
his  discouragement  out  of  his  voice.  He  was  to 
be  a  sharer  in  the  profits  of  this  new  enterprise ; 
and  his  count  of  the  gains  had  been  large.  He 
was  feeling  the  need  of  these  gains  ;  for,  though 
a  rich  man,  as  riches  were  estimated  in  Brantly, 
he  had  not  been  able  to  make  his  already  large 
investment  in  the  new  hotel  without  a  draft  on 


104         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

his  business  to  an  extent  that  was  not  only 
causing  uneasiness  to  his  partner,  but  embarrass 
ing  their  operations.  Already  Mr.  Grubb  had 
objected  to  any  farther  use  of  the  firm's  capital, 
and  given  notice  that  if  more  money  were 
required  for  the  hotel  scheme,  it  must  be  raised 
outside  of  their  business ;  and  he  was  in  a  posi 
tion  to  have  his  say  in  this  matter. 

There  were  golden  hopes  in  the  mind  of  Fithian 
which  the  second  day's  business  in  the  new 
saloon  had  failed  to  brighten.  Having  permitted 
his  fancy  to  run  away  with  him,  he  had  exag 
gerated  the  thirst  of  Brantly.  The  scores  of 
men  and  boys  who  came  and  went  all  through 
the  opening  day,  scarcely  exceeded  in  number 
the  regular  customers  he  had  anticipated.  No 
wonder  the  falling  off  of  the  second  day  was  a 
damper  on  his  spirits,  which  no  confident  talk  of 
his  friend  and  partner  in  this  business  could 
remove. 

What  to  Hyer  would  be  success,  to  him  would 
be  next  to  failure.  He  wanted  thousands,  wrhere 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  105 

Hyer  needed  only  hundreds.  The  one  could 
wait  for  this  seed,  which  had  been  planted  in 
virgin  soil,  to  grow  up  and  bear  fruit — the  other 
could  not. 

By  the  close  of  the  first  week  Dennis 
Fithian's  hope  in  the  new  business  was  all 
gone.  That  it  would  pay  him  a  good  interest 
on  the  money  invested  had  been  demonstrated, 
but  as  a  source  of  large  and  rapid  income — 
what  he  was  after — it  had  no  sure  promise. 
He  had  not  gone  into  it  as  a  good  interest- 
paying  investment,  but  with  the  hope  of  secur 
ing  immediate  gains.  Hyer  had  no  such  exag 
gerated  ideas.  He  understood  the  business,  and 
knew  that  if  a  good  run  could  be  obtained  before 
others  came  rushing  in  through  the  door  he  was 
first  to  open,  that  a  harvest  rich  enough  to  meet 
his  anticipations  would  be  reaped. 

"If?"  But  the  "'if"  came  in;  it  generally 
does,  as  a  check  to  our  best-laid  schemes.  Be 
fore  the  close  of  the  first  week  two  more  bar 
rooms  were  opened  in  the  town  ;  one  of  them  in 


106         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

the  poorer  district,  where  most  of  the  mecha 
nics  and  working  people  resided.  Scarcely  a 
month  elapsed  before  liquor  was  sold  in  a  dozen 
different  places. 

Did  Mr.  Norman  fold  his  hands  in  despair,  as 
he  saw  this  flood  of  evil  break  in  upon  his 
beloved  town?  Not  he.  A  faithful  watchman 
on  the  walls,  he  had  given  a  cry  of  warning,  as 
he  saw  the  enemy  advancing.  His  cry  had  not 
been  heeded.  An  enemy,  pitiless  as  death  and 
hell,  was  over  the  wall  and  in  the  city,  and  the 
sword  had  already  begun  its  dreadful  work 
among  the  people.  Brave  as  faithful,  he  gath 
ered  about  him  a  small  band  of  true  and 
earnest  men  whom  no  glitter  of  tinsel  could 
blind  and  no  promise  of  gain  seduce,  and  girding 
on  his  sword,  stood  forth  ready  for  battle.  But 
the  enemy  laughed  him  to  scorn.  What  cared 
he  for  the  poor  array  drawn  up  against  him  ? 
He  would  not  so  much  as  pause  in  his  work  of 
rapine  to  sweep  this  little  opposing  band  out  of 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  107 

existence ;  it  looked  so  weak  and  contemptible 
in  bis  eyes ! 

But  in  truth  and  right  there  is  a  living  power. 
All  the  forces  of  heaven  flow  into  them ;  and 
the  influence  of  men  who  are  on  the  side  of 
truth  and  right  can  never  be  wholly  lost.  Mr. 
Norman  made  a  rallying  point,  and  gathered  in 
recruits  from  day  to  day  ;  and  while  the  work 
of  evil  went  on,  and  the  gener.il  public  sentiment 
became  more  and  more  demoralized,  he  was 
active  in  the  formation  of  another  and  better 
public  sentiment,  the  voice  of  which  began,  ere 
long,  to  be  heard  above  the  "  Io  triumphe  !"  of 
the  enemy. 

"  It  is  of  no  use,  Mr.  Norman,"  said  one  and 
another,  as  he  talked  with  the  people,  and 
addressed  them  in  public,  and  scattered  tem 
perance  tracts  and  documents  in  every  house  ; 
"you  cannot  stop  this  thing  now.  The  law  pro 
tects  these  men  in  a  business  that  pays  them 
well;  and  gain  is  the  god  that  most  men 
worship." 


108  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  If  I  can  save  a  single  soul  from  the  curse 
that  has  fallen  upon  our  town,  it  will  be  worth 
all  the  effort  I  shall  make ;  and  I  trust  to  save 
many,"  was  the  steady  answer. 

What  the  law  allowed,  and  no  more,  was 
permitted  to  those  who  went  into  the  evil  traffic. 
Mr.  Norman  saw  to  it  that  no  man  who  applied 
for  a  license  to  open  a  bar-room  in  Brantly 
obtained  one  without  meeting  the  provisions  of 
the  state  law  to  the  very  letter ;  and  if  any  dis 
regarded  the  law,  or  made  an  effort  to  evade  it, 
he  was  promptly  brought  into  court  and  pun 
ished  ;  for  in  the  beginning  of  this  fight  with 
intemperance,  neither  the  courts  nor  the  juries 
in  Brantly  had  come  under  the  influence  of 
that  whiskey  power  which  has  controlled  legis 
lation,  obstructed  justice,  and  set  at  defiance 
every  principle  of  right  arid  humanity.  In  the 
outset  he  did  not  find  it  hard  to  hold  the  fiery 
stream  which  was  pouring  through  the  town  to 
the  prescribed  limits  established  by  law.  Every 
trespass  or  evasion  was  met  by  prompt  legal 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  109 

action.  But  evil  is  for  ever  seeking  to  find  a  way 
through  its  limitations.  It  has  no  honor,  no 
conscience,  and  no  regard  for  anything  but 
itself. 

According  to  the  law,  the  sale  of  liquor  to 
minors  was  forbidden  ;  also  to  men  known  as 
drunkards.  It  was  chiefly  under  the  clause  touch 
ing  minors  that  Mr.  Norman  brought  trouble 
upon  the  tavern  keepers,  for  at  the  commence 
ment  of  this  traffic  there  were  no  drunkards  in 
the  town.  He  had  nearly  all  the  mothers  in 
Brantly  on  his  side ;  and  they  were  watchful 
over  their  boys  and  very  keen-sighted.  When 
ever  the  breath,  or  any  other  sign,  gave  evidence 
to  one  of  these  mothers  that  her  son  had  been 
visiting  a  bar-room,  word  was  sent  to  Mr.  Nor 
man  ;  and  then  a  watch  would  be  set  upon  the 
lad.  Not  being  on  guard,  he  could  be  easily 
traced  to  the  saloon  whither  the  desire  for  liquor, 
or  the  companionship  to  be  found  there,  impelled 
him  to  go.  The  proper  evidence  was  then  ob 
tained,  if  he  were  seen  to  drink.  Prosecution 


110  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

followed  immediately.  For  awhile,  Mr.  Nor 
man  was  able  to  hold  these  liquor  sellers  account 
able  for  every  fairly  proven  breach  of  the  law. 
But,  gradually,  one  technical  obstruction  after 
another  was  thrown  in  his  way;  and  judges  and 
juries  began  to  be  affected  by  legal  quibbles  and 
doubts  about  evidence.  Things  seen  in  open 
daylight,  and  testified  to  with  a  positiveness 
that  no  cross-questionings  or  the  bul lyings  of 
counsel- could  shake,  were  not  found  to  be  proven. 
Judges  made  weaker  and  more  halting  charges  to 
the  juries ;  while  the  juries  more  readily  found 
loop-holes  through  which  the  accused  ones  might 
escape.  Mr.  Norman  troubled  the  courts. 
Judges  began  to  grow  impatient  with  this  perti 
nacity  in  pressing  his  cases  ;  and  opposing  counsel 
grew  less  considerate  towards  the  "  unrelenting 
old  man,"  as  they  called  him  in  their  first  depart 
ure  from  a  respectful  attitude  toward  one  whom 
they  had  so  long  known  and  so  highly  regarded. 
It  was  not  a  great  while  before  such  epithets  as 
"  nuisance  ;''  "  old  busy-body  ;"  "  mean  in- 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  Ill 

former;"  '-  stick  in  the  mud;"  "relic  of  the 
past;"  and  the  like,  were  thrown  at  him  in  open 
court. 

This  cruel  discourtesy  hurt  Mr.  Norman;  and 
the  more  so,  as  it  unveiled  to  him  the  true  char 
acter  of  certain  men  with  whom  he  had  been  in 
friendly  relations  for  years,  and  whom  he  had 
regarded  as  honorable  gentlemen. 

"  He  holds  himself  at  a  lower  price  than  I  had 
thought,"  was  his  quiet  remark,  in  regard  to  one 
of  these  men,  Roger  Lyman — into  whose  hands 
most  of  the  law-violating  whiskey  sellers  gave 
their  cases  for  defence,  and  to  whose  skill  in 
their  management  and  influence  with  the  juries 
they  so  often  owed  their  escape  from  merited  pun 
ishment.  "  But  there  is  no  price  large  enough 
for  the  honor  he  has  so  cheaply  bartered  away." 

"  He  must  defend  and  save  his  clients  if  within 
the  bounds  of  possibility,"  was  answered;  "  he 
pledges  himself  to  that  when  he  undertakes  the 
management  of  their  cases." 


112         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

"  No  man's  duty  to  another  requires  him  to 
sell  his  soul." 

"  That  is  speaking  too  harshly,  Mr.  Norman. 
You  hurt  yourself  and  the  cause  you  advocate  by 
such  sweeping  and  unwarranted  inferences." 

"  How  does  a  man  sell  his  soul  ?"  There  was 
no  reply,  and  Mr.  Norman  answered  his  own 
question.  "  By  casting  in  his  lot  with  evil-doers, 
and  sharing  their  gains.  This  is  one  of  the  many 
ways  in  which  men  make  merchandise  of  their 
souls  and  sell  them  to  the  wicked  one." 

"I  do  not  see  what  this  has  to  do  with  Mr. 
Lyman's  professional  life.  Learned  in  the  law, 
and  skilled  in  all  matters  pertaining  thereto,  he 
gives  to  men  who  have  cases  in  court  the  benefit 
of  his  legal  knowledge.  Is  there  anything  wrong 
in  this  ?" 

"  Because  a  man  is  a  lawyer,  is  he  any  the 
less  under  the  obligations  of  good  citizenship?" 
queried  Mr.  Norman. 

"Of  course  not." 


HYER    OPENS    A    SALOON.  113 

"  Will  a  good  citizen  help  an  evil  man  to  evade 
the  law  ?"  There  was  no  reply. 

"  Or,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  promote  the  escape 
of  a  criminal,  that  he  may  still  prey  upon  the 
community  ?" 

"Until  a  man  is  found  guilty,  the  law  re 
gards  him  as  innocent." 

"  I  am  not  arraigning  the  law,  but  men.  If  I 
see  a  man  steal,  do  I  not  know  him  to  be  a  thief, 
even  though  the  law  should  acquit  him  through 
the  cunning  devices  of  his  counsel  ?  A  man's 
responsibility  is  absolute,  not  technical.  If  I, 
knowing  a  man  to  be  a  thief,  help  him  to  evade 
the  law,  I  am  guilty  of  doing  violence  to  the 
law,  and  forfeit  my  honor.  There  are  not  two 
codes  of  honor ;  one  for  a  lawyer  and  the  other 
for  an  unprofessional  citizen." 

"  Men  are  often  accused  wrongly.  It  is  the 
lawyer's  duty  to  question  the  evidence  at  every 
point,  and  to  do  his  utmost  to  establish  the  inno 
cence  of  his  client." 

"  What  if  he  knows  him  to  be  guilty  ?" 
8 


114  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  In  that  case "  But  the  gentleman  with 

whom  Mr.  Norman  was  talking  checked  himself 
before  filling  out  the  sentence.  He  was  not  sure 
that  it  would  be  well  to  commit  himself  to  the 
declaration  he  was  about  making. 

"  He  would  not  stand  innocent  before  God  or 
man,"  said  Mr.  Norman,  emphatically,  "  and 
Mr.  Lyman  is  not  innocent.  I  hold  him  largely 
responsible  for  the  rapid  growth  of  a  great  evil, 
the  curse  of  which  is  at  every  man's  door.  But 
for  him,  and  a  few  like  him,  I  could  have  held  it 
within  the  bounds  prescribed  by  law  ;  could  have 
set  a  limit  to  its  aggressions,  and  made  it  circum 
spect  instead  of  defiant.  No  man  can  do  an  evil 
thing  himself,  nor  give  aid  to  the  doers  of  an  evil 
thing,  without  reaping  in  some  measure  of  the 
harvest  that  is  sure  to  come ;  and  Mr.  Lyman 
cannot  escape  from  the  operations  of  a  law  that 
works  out  its  results  with  unerring  certainty. 
The  curse  will  not  linger  on  his  threshold,  but 
pass  over." 


A   GALA   DAY   IN    BRANTLY.  115 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    GALA   DAY   IN   BRANTLY. 

TT  was  a  gala  day  in  Brantly.  The  new  hotel, 
so  far  as  the  outside  was  concerned,  had 
been  pushed  to  completion,  and  presented  a  very 
imposing  aspect.  Inside,  only  the  centre  and 
right  wing  were  furnished  and  in  readiness  for 
guests.  As  to  the  furnishing,  not  a  great  deal 
can  be  said.  Two  things  had  been  mainly  re 
garded,  show  and  cheapness.  To  the  unin- 
structed  eye,  arid  the  uncultivated  taste,  all 
looked  grand  and  beautiful.  Rich  color,  glitter 
and  tinsel,  were  everywhere. 

It  was,  as  we  have  said,  a  gala  day  in  Brantly, 
for  the  new  hotel,  all  ready  for  a  rush  of  busi 
ness,  had  been  thrown  open,  and  the  managers 


116  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

were  having  a  jubilation.  There  was  a  dinner, 
with  invited  guests  from  New  York  and  other 
cities,  among  whom  were  several  representatives 
of  the  press.  Flags  were  flying  from  all  the 
windows ;  and  a  band  discoursed  loud  music,  at 
intervals,  all  through  the  day  and  evening. 
Not  since  the  previous  New  Year's  day,  when 
the  first  drinking  saloon  was  opened,  had  there 
been  so  much  excitement  in  the  town.  Business 
was  almost  entirely  suspended  ;  and  people  were 
on  the  streets,  or  roaming  about  the  hotel  from 
morning  until  night.  All  the  saloons  and  bar 
rooms  were  crowded. 

It  was  hard  on  to  the  middle  of  July  when  this 
event  took  place.  Since  the  first  of  the  month, 
advertisements  of  the  new  hotel,  with  glowing 
descriptions  of  its  modern  improvements  and 
arrangements  for  the  comfort  of  guests,  and  of 
the  health  and  beauty  of  Brantly  and  the  sur 
rounding  neighborhood,  had  been  appearing  in 
the  daily  papers  of  most  of  the  large  Atlantic 
cities.  Many  applications  had  been  received, 


A   GALA   DAY   IN   BRANTLY.  117 

and  many  persons  who  were  looking  for  summer 
boarding  had  come  to  see  what  kind  of  a  place 
this  Brantly  was. 

If  the  house  had  been  ready  by  the  first  of 
July,  a  large  part  of  the  rooms  might  have  been 
engaged.  But  the  fifteenth  was  too  late  for  most 
families  in  search  of  pleasant  localities  wherein 
to  spend  the  hot  weather ;  and  the  consequence 
was,  that  only  twenty  rooms  out  of  the  forty 
which  had  been  made  ready  for  guests,  were  so 
far  taken. 

The  dinner  was  a  great  affair.  Roger  Lyman 
was  in  the  place  of  honor  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  and  made  a  glowing  speech  "  over  the 
walnuts  and  the  wine,"  in  which  Brantly  was 
represented  as  starting  up  from  her  long  sleep, 
shaking  her  vigorous  limbs,  and  setting  a  foot  in 
advance  preparatory  to  a  forward  spring.  He 
talked  to  Brantly,  to  New  York,  to  America,  to 
Europe,  to  the  world !  Representing  Brantly, 
he  held  out  his  hand  in  token  of  universal 
brotherhood.  No  longer  asleep,  isolated,  un- 


118  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

known,  Brantly  was  thrilling  with  the  new  life 
which  had  been  poured  into  her  veins,  and  was 
panting  for  the  race  set  before  her.  Brantly 
meant  to  be  heard  from.  Brantly  meant  to  write 
herself  so  high  on  the  list  of  progress,  enterprise, 
wealth  and  social  advancement,  that  her  name 
would  be  the  synonym  for  all  these ! 

It  did  not  escape  the  observation  of  Mr.  Ly- 
man's  friends  that  his  manner,  as  wrell  as  his 
speech,  were  a  little  wild  at  times.  After  the 
toasts  and  speeches,  came  comic  songs,  humorous 
recitations,  uproarious  laughter,  and  a  general 
giving  up  of  manly  dignity,  until,  at  length,  the 
scene  was  little  more  than  a  bacchanalian  orgie, 
which  was  kept  up  until  a  late  hour. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  heavy  sleeping  in 
Brantly  during  the  night  that  followed  this 
memorable  day  ;  whether  from  excessive  fatigue, 
free  potations  or  from  minds  at  rest  and  satisfied, 
we  will  not  say.  And  there  was,  also,  if  that  too 
must  be  told,  a  great  deal  of  wakefulness.  Many 
of  the  sleepers,  if  they  dreamed  at  all,  had  golden 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  119 

visions;  but  to  the  watchers  and  the  waking, 
came  haunting  fears,  and  sorrowful  forebodings. 
Among  these  was  Mrs.  Roger  Lyman.  She  had 
looked  for  her  husband  and  son  to  return  from  the 
dinner  as  early  in  the  evening  as  ten  o'clock.  But 
when  the  time  wore  on  until  the  hour  of  twelve, 
the  sense  of  uneasiness  and  concern  which  had 
been  troubling  her  all  day  and  through  the  even 
ing  became  like  a  heavy  weight  in  her  heart.  Not 
vague  nor  idle  were  the  fears  and  anxieties  that 
oppressed  her  mind.  What  others  had  seen  and 
spoken  of,  she  had  seen  also.  From  the  time 
Hyer  opened  his  saloon  scarcely  a  day  v^eni  by 
that  she  did  not  detect  the  odor  of  wine  or  beer 
on  her  husband's  breath.  He  was  away  from 
home  more  frequently  in  the  evenings  than 
before ;  and  often,  on  his  return,  brought  with 
him  the  unmistakable  signs  of  where  he  had 
been. 

No  wife  who  loves  her  husband,  and  who  feels 
that  all  her  happiness  in  this  world  is  bound  up 
in  his  well-being  and  well-doing,  can  note  the 


120  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

odor  of  drink  on  his  breath,  without  a  feeling  of 
trouble.  It  may  be  slight;  but  it  will  surely 
come ;  and  the  oftener  she  notes  it  the  stronger 
will  be  this  feeling.  It  had  been  growing  in  Mrs. 
Lyman's  heart  for  many  months,  until  now  it  was 
a  perpetual  concern,  the  shadow  of  which  lay  in 
her  eyes  and  over  her  thoughtful  face. 

But  not  as  a  wife  only  was  she  concerned. 
The  mother's  heart  had  cause  for  alarm.  Her 
only  son,  born  with  all  her  gentle  instincts  and 
refinement  of  character,  had  grown  up  to  man 
hood,  bearing  on  every  lineament  of  his  fresh, 
young  face  the  signs  of  a  pure  life  and  the  pro 
mise  of  a  bright  and  honorable  future.  He  had 
passed  safely  through  the  temptations  of  college 
companionship,  and  was  now  earnestly  pursuing 
the  study  of  law  in  his  father's  office.  In  a  few 
months  he  would  be  admitted  to  the  bar.  His 
age  was  twenty-two. 

Up  to  the  time  when  his  relish  for  a  good 
glass  of  wine,  which  he  was  pretty  sure  to  get 
at  Dennis  Fithian's,  brought  Mr.  Lyinan  into 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  121 

association  with  Andrew  Hyer,  his  son  had  few 
aspirations  beyond  the  role  of  a  successful 
country  lawyer;  though  he  meant  to  be  at  the 
head  of  his  profession  in  the  courts  where  he 
practised.  To  gain  this  eminence  he  knew  that 
he  must  work  and  wait.  But  it  was  not  long  after 
the  event  to  which  we  have  referred,  before  the 
parties  who  had  become  interested  with  Mr.  Ly- 
man  in  the  hotel  scheme  made  frequent  visits  to 
his  office,  where  many  and  long  discussions  were 
had  over  the  new  enterprise.  To  these  Horace 
Lyman  could  not  but  listen  with  interest ;  and 
he  very  naturally  went  over  to  his  father's  way 
of  thinking.  To  think  affirmatively  on  any 
question  of  morals  or  conduct,  usually  results  in 
action  when  the  opportunity  comes.  It  is  not 
at  all  surprising  then  that,  taking  both  the  -  pre 
cept  and  example  of  his  father  as  a  rule,  the 
young  man,  seeing  little  harm  or  danger  in  a 
glass  of  liquor,  should  be  led  into  an  occasional 
indulgence  with  his  young  friends  at  Hyer's 


THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

saloon,  after  that   door  to  ruin  was   opened   in 
the  town. 

The  two  parties  into  which  the  people  soon 
became  separated,  as  the  hotel  progressed  and 
the  new  order  of  things  its  projectors  were  to 
establish  in  Brantly  began  to  shadow  itself  forth, 
came  naturally  into  wordy  conflict,  and  the  town 
was  agitated  by  their  discussions.  Mr.  Ly man's 
office  was  the  head-quarters,  so  to  speak,  of  the 
progressive  men,  as  they  were  pleased  to  style 
themselves ;  and  there  the  most  specious  argu 
ments  in  favor  of  stimulants,  as  a  natural  want 
of  the  bodily  organism,  were  to  be  heard.  No 
man  argued  so  learnedly  and  conclusively  as 
Mr.  Lyman  himself.  Here,  too,  men  discussed 
questions  of  social  and  political  economy ;  finance 
and  the  laws  of  trade,  and  the  development  of 
industries.  Always  these  discussions  had  their 
starting-point  in  the  new  hotel,  back  to  which 
they  as  surely  came;  and  the  grand  conclusion 
certain  to  be  reached  was,  that  through  this  hotel 
would  be  opened  for  Brantly  a  way  of  prosperity 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  123 

that  must  in  less  than  a  decade  more  than  quad 
ruple  its  wealth  and  population.  The  opinions 
advanced  and  the  conclusions  reached  in  Mr. 
Lyman's  office  were  taken  forth  and  re-stated 
and  re-argued  among  the  people.  It  was  mar 
vellous  how  wise  and  learned  on  these  subjects 
many  became  ;  and  how  speciously  they  could 
argue  on  the  side  of  drinking  and  progress. 

Plow  easily  young  Horace  Lyman  was  drawn 
over  to  the  wrong  way  of  thinking  can  readily 
be  seen.  He  was  like  a  partisan  in  politics  who 
sees  the  newspapers  of  one  side  only.  Day  after 
day  he  heard  certain  doctrines  asserted ;  and 
maintained  by  facts,  statistics  and  specious  argu 
ments,  that  few  of  the  visitors  to  his  father's 
office  attempted  to  gainsay.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  he  rested  in  the  common  sentiment  so  posi 
tively  expressed  by  those  around  him,  many 
of  whom  were  men  of  twice  his  years,  experi 
ence  and  observation.  A  circumstance  that 
committed  him  more  entirely  to  the  hotel  scheme, 
was  the  fact  that  he  had  been  elected  secretary 


124         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

to  the  company  at  a  salary  of  one  thousand 
dollars  a  year  ;  and  that  a  great  deal  of  business 
connected  with  the  new  building  passed  through 
his  hands.  This  business  had  taken  him  to  New 
York  several  times;  and  once  it  kept  him  in 
that  city  for  over  a  week.  On  his  return  after 
this  prolonged  visit,  his  mother  saw  the  first 
change  in  him  which  gave  her  the  alarm.  Just 
what  it  meant  she  did  not  know  ;  but  that  it 
meant  evil  and  danger  her  sinking  heart  too 
surely  foreboded. 

From  this  time  Mrs.  Ly man's  jealous  observa 
tion  of  her  son  was  never  intermitted.  Her  eyes 
were  on  him  in  his  going  out  and  his  coming  in. 
She  hearkened  to  all  he  said,  and  watched  the 
drift  of  his  sentiments.  Slowly,  fighting  with 
her  fears  at  every  step,  the  sad  and  sorrowful 
conclusion  forced  itself  upon  her  mind  that  he 
was  in  the  flow  of  a  current  that  was  bearing 
him  out  upon  a  dangerous  sea.  Every  day  he 
seemed  to  be  going  a  little  away  from  her.  The 
lovelight  was  fading  in  his  beautiful  eyes,  and 


A    GALA   DAY   IN    BRANTLY.  125 

the  tenderness  out  of  his  voice.  Or,  was  it  only 
a  fancy  ?  Was  not  this  change  due  more  to  the 
earnestness  with  which  he  was  devoting  himself 
to  work  and  study,  than  to  any  loss  of  love  for 
his  mother  ?  Is  a  mother's  heart  easily  de 
ceived  ? 

Long  before  that  gala  day  in  Brantly,  had  the 
heart  of  Mrs.  Lyman  been  sorely  troubled  many, 
many  times.  Now  it  was  for  her  son,  now  for 
her  husband,  and  now  for  her  daughter,  whose 
lover  was  already  showing  palpable  signs  of 
indulgence  in  liquor — the  thing  she  had  so  much 
feared  if  temptation  should  ever  come  in  his 
way.  The  young  men  of  the  town  had  grown 
up  together  from  boyhood,  and  a  few  of  those 
who  had  been  well  educated  and  were  of  average 
intelligence,  used  often  to  meet  for  friendly  inter 
course  and  mental  improvement.  It  was  not 
long  after  the  new  saloon  became  one  of  the 
popular  places  of  resort,  before  in  the  meetings 
together  of  these  young  men  mental  improvement 
ceased  and  moral  deterioration  began.  Often, 


126  THE    BAll-llOUMS    AT    BllANTLY. 

instead  of  books  and  essays,  and  discussions  on 
politics,  history,  and  the  progress  of  ideas  in  the 
world,  there  would  be  a  supper  at  Hyer's,  with 
cards,  and,  of  course,  a  few  bottles  of  wine. 
Songs  and  stories,  not  always  of  the  fittest  sort, 
took,  on  these  occasions,  the  place  of  intellectual 
culture. 

Horace  Lyrnan  and  Frank  Sylvester  were 
favorites  among  their  companions,  and  a  supper 
was  rarely  given  without  an  invitation  being 
extended  to  both  of  them.  There  was  another 
danger  in  their  way — a  danger  to  which  they 
had  never  been  exposed  before.  Up  to  the 
period  at  which  our  story  commences,  no  stimu 
lating  beverages  of  any  kind  had  ever  been 
served  among  the  refreshments  at  a  social  party. 
But  the  progressive  element  was  growing  away 
from  the  old  customs  and  narrow  prejudices 
which  had  so  long  held  the  people,  and  good 
society  in  Brantly  began  to  follow  in  the  wake 
of  good  society  elsewhere.  First  one,  and  then 
another  gave  wine  with  their  entertainments; 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  131 

"Of  course  I  will." 

A  brief,  uneasy  silence. 

"  Get  him  alongside  of  you  at  the  table." 

"  I'll  try." 

"  And  don't  let  him  drink  too  much.  You 
can  have  a  good  influence  over  him." 

"  I  will  do  nry  best ;  but  Frank  is  so  fond  of 
good  eating  and  drinking ;  and  doesn't  seem  to 
have  any  control  over  his  appetite." 

Horace  checked  himself.  He  was  saying  too 
much  and  thus  increasing  his  mother's  anxiety. 

"  Not  a  particle  of  control ;  and  here  lies  his 
great  peril.  This  new  order  of  things  which  you 
and  your  father  say  is  going  to  send  in  upon  as 
a  flood-tide  of  prosperty,  will  be  the  cause,  I  fear, 
of  this  young  man's  ruin  !" 

"  No,  no,  mother!  Push  these  idle  fears  out 
of  your  mind.  Frank  may  get  a  little  off  his  bal 
ance  at  first ;  but  he'll  come  out  all  right." 

"  He  is  far  too  weak  of  purpose  now  ;  and  far 
too  self-indulgent  to  leave  much  hope  of  his  com 
ing  out  right.  Could  I  have  known  that  this 


132  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

curse  of  drink  would  fall  upon  our  town,  I  would 
never  have  given  my  consent  to  his  engagement 
to  your  sister.  It  was  just  this  that  I  most 
feared.  But  I  thought  we  were  free  from  such 
a  danger.  Just  think  of  your  sister  as  the  wife 
of  a  drunkard  !  It  makes  me  shudder  1" 

"  If  Frank  should  take  to  indulging  too  freely, 
the  engagement  must  be  broken  off." 

66  Easier  said  than  done." 

"  It  must  be.  You  and  father  have  only  to 
say,  <  No !'  " 

"  The  '  No'  of  father  and  mother  is  not  always 
regarded  by  the  child.  There  have  been  many 
instances  in  which  a  girl  has  clung  to  a  dissi 
pated  lover,  and  married  him  in  spite  of  all 
opposition." 

"Marie  will  not  be  one  of  these." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure." 

"  When  she  sees  how  he  is  drifting,  should  he 
get  away  from  safe  moorings,  she  will  discard 
him  as  unworthy  of  her  love." 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  133 

"  I  fear  not.  He  has  begun  to  drift  already, 
and  Marie  knows  it." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that,  mother  ?" 

"  There  are  signs  which  cannot  be  mistaken, 
and  my  eyes  have  seen  them.  Instead  of  the 
effect  you  imagine,  they  have,  so  far,  only  drawn 
her  closer  to  him." 

"  Impossible  !  A  girl  with  Marie's  strong, 
good  sense  is  not  going  to  cast  in  her  lot  with  a 
man  who  is  in  danger  of  becoming  a  slave  to 
intemperance.  A  weak  and  imaginative  girl 
might,  under  the  influence  of  some  heroic  fancy, 
do  so  wild  a  thing,  but  not  our  Marie." 

The  young  man  turned  away  as  he  said  this. 
"  Time  is  passing,  and  I  must  go,"  he  added,  in 
a  lighter  voice.  "  Don't  trouble  yourself  about 
me.  It  will  be  worry  for  nothing." 

And  then  he  was  gone. 


134  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    NEW    HOTEL    NOT    A    SUCCESS. 

FITTING  in  her  chamber,  Mrs.  Lyman  had 
an  unobstructed  view  of  the  Brantly  House. 
Light  was  streaming  from  a  hundred  windows ; 
and  the  large  and  stately  edifice,  surrounded  by 
a  halo  which  set  it  forward  upon  the  background 
of  darkness,  looked  like  a  grandly-illuminated 
castle.  All  the  air  was  filled  with  music.  If 
there  had  not  been  resting  on  her  heart  a  heavy 
weight  of  concern,  the  scene  would  have  im 
pressed  her  as  one  of  almost  entrancing  beauty. 
She  would  have  permitted  her  fancy  to  go  free  ; 
would  have  seen  before  her  a  palace,  filled  with 
knights  and  courtly  dames.  All  would  have 
been  grand  and  royally  magnificent. 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.       135 

Alas  for  the  reality  !  Only  for  a  little  while 
did  an  impression  of  beauty  remain  with  Mrs. 
Lyman.  The  gorgeous  palace  changed  in  its 
aspect ;  out  from  the  windows  came  a  lurid 
glare  as  of  consuming  fires ;  and  the  music  that 
floated  to  her  on  the  soft  summer  air  was  min 
gled  with  sounds  of  unhallowed  revel.  The  eyes 
of  her  soul  were  looking  through  the  glowing 
windows  and  encompassing  walls.  She  saw  men 
eating  and  drinking,  and  debasing  their  manhood 
in  carousal.  She  heard  the  click  of  glasses,  the 
confusion  of  tongues,  the  bacchanal  song,  and 
her  heart  grew  faint  and  fearful ;  for  were  not 
those  she  loved  dearest  in  all  the  world  in  that 
palace  of  danger  through  which  the  fires  of  hell 
were  seeking  to  find  an  opening  ?  Would  they 
come  back  to  her  without  the  smell  of  this  con 
suming  fire  upon  their  garments  ? 

Hour  after  hour  she  sat  by  this  window  as  if 
a  spell  were  holding  her  there.  Would  the  lights 
never  go  out?  Would  the  music  that  hurt  her 
ears  with  every  wave  of  sound,  never  cease  its 


136  THE   BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

discordant  crash  ?  The  dinner  was  to  commence 
at  seven  o'clock.  But  it  was  nearly  twelve 
before  the  light  began  to  fade  in  the  great  dining 
hall,  and  the  windows  to  grow  dark.  Half  an 
hour  later,  and  where  the  brilliant  palace  stood 
only  a  black  mass  was  visible  against  the  starry 
sky. 

Tramp  of  feet  and  sound  of  voices :  snatches 
of  song  and  bursts  of  laughter.  The  air  was 
fretted  and  jarred  with  these  for  awhile ;  then  a 
deep  silence  fell  upon  the  town.  Mrs.  Lyman 
drew  back  from  her  window,  and  stood  waiting 
and  listening  for  her  husband  arid  son,  her  heart 
so  heavy  with  a  vague  dread  and  uncertainty 
that  it  seemed  as  if  she  would  lose  the  power  of 
respiration.  Would  they  never  come  ?  Why, 
of  all  others,  should  their  return  be  so  long 
delayed  ? 

At  last  her  sensitive  ear  detected  the  sound  of 
their  approaching  feet — familiar,  and  yet  in 
something  changed.  She  was  sure  of  the  step ; 
but  why  did  it  halt  and  hesitate  ?  Where  was 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.        137 

the  free,  strong  tread  ?  She  heard  their  voices. 
They  were  low  and  indistinct,  and  the  utterances 
brief.  At  last  they  were  at  the  door.  It  was 
opened  so  noiselessly  that  Mrs.  Lyrnan  did  not 
hear  its  movement  on  the  hinges.  But  scarcely 
were  they  inside  before  the  stillness  of  the  house 
was  broken.  One  of  the  hall  chairs,  a  little  out 
of  place,  had  been  struck  against  and  thrown 
down ;  in  a  moment  after  came  the  heavy  jar  of 
a  falling  body. 

With  a  cry  that  her  overstrained  feelings  made 
it  impossible  for  her  to  repress,  Mrs.  Lyman  came 
springing  down  the  stairs.  Horace  was  lying 
upon  the  floor,  where  he  had  fallen  over  the  chair 
which  had  been  struck,  his  father  stooping  over 
and  trying  to  drag  him  up  by  one  of  his  arms. 
But  it  wras  evident  from  his  uncertain  manner 
and  the  small  effort  exerted,  that  he  was  not  in 
the  full  possession  of  either  his  mental  or  physi 
cal  powers. 

Mrs.  Lyman  could  never  afterwards  recall, 
with  any  great  distinctness,  what  followed  this, 


138  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRASTLY. 

to  her,  appalling  scene — for  she  was  in  no  doubt 
as  to  its  meaning.  The  terror  which  had  been 
throwing  its  chill  shadow  across  her  heart  for 
hours,  stood  stark  in  her  way  now.  Her  only 
son,  the  pride  of  her  heart,  the  one  being  in  all 
the  world  for  whom  she  would  have  given  her 
life,  lay  prone  before  her ;  all  his  manhood  gone 
down  in  the  besotment  of  wine ! 

Ah!  the  heartaches,  the  fears,  the  dread,  the 
mortifications,  and  the  bitter  repentances  that 
were  in  Brantly  on  the  morning  that  followed  its 
grand  gala  day  !  There  was  no  hint  of  these  in 
any  of  the  glowing  accounts  of  the  opening  of  the 
new  hotel,  and  the  splendid  entertainment,  which 
appeared  in  the  New  York  papers.  According 
to  these,  the  whole  affair  had  been  a  grand  suc 
cess,  at  which  all  Brantly  was  in  a  state  of  felici 
tation.  Nor  did  even  Brantly  itself  have  any 
thing  more  than  a  faint  conception  of  the  extent 
to  which  these  heartaches,  and  fears,  and  mortifi 
cations  prevailed.  The  darkness  of  the  night, 
and  the  silence  and  reserve  of  the  days  that  fol- 


THE    NEW    HOTEL    NOT   A    SUCCESS.  139 

lowed  that  night,  hid  from  common  observation 
the  skeleton  which  had  found  a  place  in  as  many 
as  a  score  of  houses,  where  only  the  beautiful  had 
been  seen  before. 

One  circumstance  was  noticeable.  People  no 
longer  talked  so  grandly  about  the  new  hotel  and 
the  wonderful  things  it  was  going  to  do  for 
Brantly.  Its  establishment  had  become  a  fixed 
fact.  Pursuit  was  over;  and  now,  in  the  assur 
ance  of  possession,  people  had  pause  and  leisure 
for  a  more  unprejudiced  look  at  things.  The 
question  as  to  how  the  new  hotel  was  going  to 
do  so  much  for  the  town's  prosperity,  did  not 
bring  as  ready  answers  as  before ;  and  the  voice 
of  the  party  on  the  adverse  side  began  to  be 
heard  more  distinctly.  While  the  building  was 
in  the  course  of  erection,  money  had  been  more 
plentiful  than  usual,  but,  as  the  work  drew  to 
completion,  complaint  was  heard  of  dull  times 
and  scarcity.  Storekeepers,  mechanics,  and  work 
ing  people  of  all  classes  felt  this  stagnation,  and 
wondered  why  it  was  so.  Men  who  had  never 


140  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

been  out  of  work  for  years,  found  their  occupation 
gone.  There  were  too  many  carpenters,  and  ma 
sons,  and  laborers  in  town  for  the  ordinary  work 
of  the  place.  Excess  of  labor  depressed  wages ; 
so  that  those  who  had  work  were  forced  to  accept 
lower  prices.  The  newcomers  were  in  many 
cases  able  to  hold  their  own  against  the  old  me 
chanics,  who  were  thrown  out  of  employment 
and  compelled  to  remove  with  their  families  to 
other  places  where  work  was  more  likely  to  be 
secured. 

Worse  than  all  this  was  the  result  of  the  new 
liquor  traffic.  There  were  now  more  than  twenty 
bar-rooms  in  Brantly,  one-half  of  them  belonging 
to  the  class  called  "  doggeries,"  in  which  boys 
were  depraved,  and  poor  laborers  and  mechanics 
led  into  vice  and  drunkenness.  It  was  surprising 
with  what  a-  sudden  and  rank  growth  these  evil 
weeds  had  sprung  up  and  filled  the  town.  You 
saw  them  everywhere  ;  here  throwing  out  red 
banners  in  the  face  of  all,  with  a  challenge  arid 
an  invitation,  and  there  hiding  in  nooks  and  by- 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.       141 

ways,  and  poisoning  the  air  with  their  noxious 
exhalations.  Brantly  began  to  give  signs  of 
illness.  There  was  a  fever  in  her  veins.  Her 
step,  once  so  firm  and  even,  began  to  halt  in 
weakness  and  inde termination.  What  was  the 
matter  ?  Men  looked  this  way  and  that ;  ques 
tioned  ;  doubted ;  wondered.  Something  had 
gone  wrong.  What  was  it  ? 

Summer  had  come  and  gone.  The  harvest 
was  reaped  and  stored,  the  gains  counted  and  the 
result  for  the  season  known.  Was  it  satisfactory  ? 
Let  us  see. 

There  had  been,  from  the  opening  of  the 
"  Brantly  House "  in  July,  to  the  close  of  the 
season  in  September,  an  average  of  sixty  guests. 
The  average  daily  receipts,  including  the  bar,  had 
been,  during  this  period,  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  :  or  a  little  upward  of  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  for  the  entire  summer  season.  The  first 
of  October  found  the  house  deserted.  The 
meeting  of  the  board  of  directors  which  was  then 
called  to  hear  the  report  of  the  treasurer,  did  not 


142  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

prove  to  be  a  very  satisfactory  one.  The  balance 
in  the  hands  of  the  treasurer  was  less  than  five 
hundred  dollars,  and  there  were  outstanding  bills 
against  the  house  for  more  than  three  thousand. 

How  different  this  from  the  estimated  result 
will  be  seen  when  wre  state  that  the  lowest 
gross  receipts  of  the  season  had  been  set  down  at 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  more  than  half 
of  which  was  to  be  on  the  side  of  clear  profit.  It 
was  a  sad  disappointment  for  the  men  who  had 
engineered  this  great  enterprise,  which  was  to 
make  every  dollar  they  possessed  worth  from 
three  to  four.  Instead  of  a  dividend,  there  would 
have  to  be  an  immediate  assessment.  If  that 
wrere  all !  If  the  exhausting  drain  which  had 
been  going  on  now  for  so  long  a  time  would  only 
stop  here  !  But  nearly  sixty  thousand  dollars 
had  been  expended  in  the  erection  and  furnish 
ing  of  this  still  unfinished  hotel,  and  thousands 
more  would  be  required  for  its  completion. 

In  the  board  of  directors,  two  of  the  largest, 
stockholders  held   opposing  views.     They  were 


A    GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  127 

and  young  men  and  young  women  who  had 
scarcely  tasted  it  before,  were  invited  to  drink  as 
freely  as  they  chose.  There  were  many  young 
men  who  had  never  entered  Hyer's  saloon,  and 
who  would  have  felt  themselves  disgraced  if 
seen  crossing  its  threshold,  who  did  not  hesi 
tate  about  accepting  the  wine  that  was  offered 
to  their  lips  at  a  gay  party.  There  was  some 
thing  half  royal  in  this  wine-drinking.  It  gave 
a  sense  of  advancement  and  largeness  and  supe- 
^iority.  Young  men  drew  their  heads  a  little 
upwards,  with  a  self-satisfied  air,  as  they  touched 
their  glasses  or  nodded  across  the  tables  at  their 
fair  friends.  They  felt  that  they  had  risen  to  a 
higher  social  level,  and  held  themselves  to  a 
manlier  bearing. 

Thus  the  danger  increased,  and  the  ways  of 
temptation  began  opening  on  all  sides  for  the  feet 
of  those  who  had  hitherto  walked  in  safety.  No 
wonder  that  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Lyman  had  grown 
troubled;  nor  that  her  anxieties  were  great  on 


128  THE    BAK-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

the  gala  day  that  saw  Brantly  the  proud  pos 
sessor  of  a  splendid  hotel. 

"  My  son,"  she  said,  as  Horace  came  out  of  his 
room  late  in  the  afternoon  all  ready  for  the  grand 
dinner  at  which  he  was  to  be  present;  "won't 
you  be  just  a  little  guarded  for  my  sake?" 

Both  hands  were  laid  upon  his  shoulders,  and 
she  was  looking  into  his  face  with  a  loving  con 
cern  that  filled  her  eyes  with  unwonted  mois 
ture. 

"  Guarded  !     About  what  ?" 

The  surprise  in  his  voice  and  look  was  un 
feigned. 

"  Wine  is  a  mocker,  my  son  ;  and  wine  at 
this  dinner  will  be  as  water.  Nob  that  I  am 
afraid  for  you,  Horace  ;  but,  but " 

The  mother's  voice  shook  a  little  and  then 
halted  on  the  half-finished  sentence. 

"  Why,  mother  !"  The  young  man  looked  hurt. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  permitted  him  to 
bee  so  clearly  the  anxiety  which  had  been  grow- 


A   GALA    DAY    IN    BRANTLY.  129 

ing  in  her  heart  for  months.  "  Is  that  all  the 
confidence  you  have  in  me  ?" 

"  I  have  all  confidence  in  you,  Horace,"  Mrs. 
Lyman  answered,  trying  to  smile  into  her  son's 
face.  "  But  I  know  that  you  and  all  our  young 
men  who  have  been  invited  to  this  dinner  will 
be  tempted  to  use  wine  too  freely.  There  will 
be  men  there  so  accustomed  to  drinking,  that 
they  can  take  a  whole  bottle  without  being  as 
much  affected  as  you  would  be  with  a  single 
glass  ;  and  their  example  will  lead  many  into  an 
unsafe  indulgence.  From  what  I  have  heard  of 
these  public  dinners  in  other  places,  my  fear  is 
that  some  of  our  young  men  will  be  betrayed 
into  folly  to-night.  If  one  of  these  should  be 
my  son,  I  think  it  would  break  my  heart !" 

The  mother's  pleading,  tender  eyes  fixed  them 
selves  on  her  son's  face. 

"  Your  heart  is  safe,  mother.  It  will  never 
break  from  such  a  cause,"  replied  Horace,  who 
endeavored  to  repress  the  annoyance  he  was  feel 
ing.  « I  am  sorry,"  he  added,  speaking  gravely, 
9 


130  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  that  you  feel  as  you  do.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  it,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  care  too  little 
for  wine  ever  to  be  betrayed  through  its  entice 
ments." 

"  I  know,  I  know,  dear.  But  a  mother  who 
is  as  proud  of  her  only  son  as  I  am,  takes  the 
alarm  at  any  sign  of  danger  in  his  way ;  and  she 
sees  danger  now.  It  may  not  touch  him  ;  but 
she  sees  it  coming  and  cannot  repress  the  cry  of 
warning  that  is  on  her  lips  !" 

"  Don't  be  troubled  for  me."  He  kissed  his 
mother  and  was  turning  away,  but  she  laid  her 
hand  on  his  arm  and  detained  him. 

"  Frank  will  be  there  ?" 

«  Yes." 

Both  became  more  serious. 

"  Frank  will  be  all  right.  Don't  give  your 
self  any  concern  about  him."  Horace  let  his  eyes 
turn  away  from  his  mother's  face  as  he  said  this. 
His  tones  were  not  quite  as  confident  as  his 
words. 

"  You'll  look  after  him,  won't  you  ?" 


THE    NEW    HOTEL    NOT   A    SUCCESS.  143 

Koger  Lyman,  Esq.,  and  Dennis  Fithian.  Mr. 
Lyman  was  not  satisfied  with  the  management 
of  Andrew  Hyer.  There  had  been  no  intelligent 
and  careful  administration  of  affairs;  but  waste 
and  reckless  extravagance  in  every  department. 
The  accounts  of  the  hotel  were  found  to  be  in 
such  confusion  that  it  was  impossible  to  gain 
from  them  anything  like  a  satisfactory  estimate 
of  the  actual  cost  of  running  the  house  from 
the  time  it  was  opened  until  the  end  of  the  sea 
son,  lie  advocated  an  immediate  closing  of  the 
hotel,  and  the  removal  of  Ilyer  from  its  manage 
ment. 

This  was  ppposed  by  Fithian,  who  took  the 
side  of  his  friend  Ilyer,  and  endeavored  to  make 
it  appear  that  in  conducting  the  establishment, 
he  had  shown  rare  fitness  for  the  work,  and  an 
energy  and  industry  worthy  of  all  praise.  There 
was  a  long  and  stormy  contest  in  the  board 
of  directors,  ending  in  the  triumph  of  Fithian's 
side  ;  a  majority  voting  not  to  close  the  hotel  for 
the  winter  and  spring,  and  to  retain  Hyer  as 


144  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

manager.  It  was  conceded  by  those  who  voted 
with  Fithian,  that  the  expense  of  keeping  the 
house  open  until  the  following  summer  could  not 
be  made  through  the  regular  hotel  business  of 
so  out-of-the-way  and  unimportant  a  place  as 
Brantly ;  but  much  was  hoped  for  from  the  bar 
and  restaurant,  to  the  allurements  of  which  the 
manager  was  to  give  his  almost  exclusive  atten 
tion.  A  series  of  balls  and  entertainments  were 
projected,  and  plans  for  interesting  the  young 
people  of  the  neighborhood  for  miles  around  dis 
cussed  and  settled.  The  county  papers  were  to 
be  used  freely  in  keeping  the  house  and  its  win 
ter  attractions  before  the  people. 

There  was  in  these  proposed  winter  attractions, 
as  Mr.  Lyrnan  looked  at  them  soberly,  a  promise 
of  loss  as  well  as  gain.  And  the  more  he  looked 
at  and  considered  them,  the  more  did  the  loss 
magnify  itself  above  the  gain.  He  might  acquire 
a  few  hundred  dollars,  but  what  might  he  not 
lose  ?  What  had  he  not  already  lost  ? 

The    board  of  directors  made  their  decision, 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.       145 

and  Roger  Lyman  returned  in  a  sober  and 
thoughtful  mood  to  his  office.  He  was  sitting 
there  in  no  very  satisfactory  condition  of  mind, 
when  Mr.  Norman  came  in.  Their  relations, 
once  so  friendly,  had  not  been  cordial  for  a  long 
time ;  for  Mr.  Norman  had  not  ceased,  in  season 
and  out  of  season,  to  oppose  and  denounce  the  evil 
work  to  which  Mr.  Lyman  had  given  his  counte 
nance  and  support;  and  on  the  other  hand,  Mr. 
Lyman  had  shown  neither  courtesy  nor  consider 
ation  for  the  single-minded,  true-hearted,  blame 
less  old  man,  who,  for  the  good  of  the  people,  did 
not  hesitate  to  brave  obloquy,  misrepresentation, 
threats  and  persecution. 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Norman."  Mr.  Lyman  was  sitting 
in  deep  thought.  He  had  not  observed  the 
entrance  of  any  one,  until  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
his  shoulder.  There  was  a  shade  of  surprise  in 
his  voice,  as  he  pronounced  his  visitor's  name ; 
but  no  unfriendliness.  He  arose  as  he  spoke  and 
gave  Mr.  Norman  his  hand.  Then  pointing  to  a 
chair  requested  him  to  be  seated.  A  silence 
10 


146         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

followed,  Mr.  Lyman  waiting  for  his  old  friend 
and  neighbor  to  mention  the  object  of  his  call. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  you  and  I  were  warm 
friends/'  said  Mr,  Norman,  breaking  the  silence. 
His  manner  was  kind,  but  serious,  and  his  tone 
regretful. 

Mr.  Lyman  moved  uneasily,  and  the  color  in 
his  face  deepened ;  but  he  did  not  reply. 

"  Was  it  a  good  thing  that  came  in  between 
us?" 

No  answer. 

"  Are  you  happier  or  better  off,  my  friend,  for 
this  thing  which  wrought  the  alienation  ?  Which 
has  set  neighbor  against  neighbor,  friend  against 
friend  and  family  against  family  ?" 

Mr.  Norman  laid  his  hand  on  the  lawyer's  arm 
and  looked  earnestly  into  his  face.  The  sudden 
flush  which  had  come  into  it  was  fading  out. 
But  Mr.  Lyman  made  no  response. 

"  In  the  light  of  things  as  you  see  them 
to-day,  does  your  heart  blame  me  that  I  set 
my  face  as  steel  against  the  introduction  of  bars 


THE   NEW   HOTEL   NOT   A    SUCCESS.  147 

and  saloons,  and  did  all  in  my  power  to  prevent 
it?" 

"  Whatever  I  might  have  felt,  Mr.  Norman,  I 
do  not  blame  you  now,"  was  answered. 

Mr.  Norman  extended  his  hand.  Mr.  Lyman 
took  it,  and  gave  back  its  warm  pressure. 

"You  were  sincere  in  your  opposition,  and 
may  have  been  right,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  One 
thing  is  certain.  Scarcely  any  of  our  calcula 
tions  seem  to  be  coming  out  according  to  the 
programme." 

"  The  reason  is  plain.  Tares  were  sown,  that 
a  harvest  of  grain  might  be  reaped.  But  nature 
does  not  reverse  her  laws.  Men  have  never 
gathered  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles ; 
and  never  will.  As  we  sow,  shall  we  always 
reap." 

A  deep  sigh  was  Mr.  Lyman's  only  answer. 

"  The  hotel  is  to  be  closed,  I  understand." 

"  No.     It  has  been  decided  to  keep  it  open." 

"Ah!     But  is  that  wise  or   prudent?     Can 


148  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

you  possibly  make  expenses  during  the  winter 
and  spring  ?" 

"  Fithian  is  in  favor  of  keeping  it  open,  and 
his  influence  is  stronger  than  mine." 

"Is  Hyer  to  remain  where  he  is?" 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  entire  confidence  in  this  man  ?" 

"  Between  you  and  me,  no.  The  more  I  see 
of  him,  the  less  do  I  like  him.  But  Fithian 
upholds  him  in  everything." 

"  Fithian  !  And  so  his  influence  dominates 
yours  ?" 

"  I  am  sor.ry  to  say  that  it  does." 

"  Bad  !" 

"  Why  do  you  say  so?" 

"  I  know  Fithian.  Have  studied  him  for 
years." 

"  I  have  always  regarded  him  as  honest  and 
straightforward.  A  little  coarse  in  quality  ;  but 
he  can't  help  that,  I  suppose.  A  fault  of  birth." 

"  If  coarseness  of  quality  were  all  that  he  has 
inherited,  the  case  might  stand  better." 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.       149 

Mr.  Lyman  showed  uneasiness  and  disturbance. 

"  How  do  you  expect  to  meet  the  expenses 
of  the  house  until  the  next  summer  season  ?  If 
it  is  kept  open,  there  must  be  servants,  light, 
fuel,  provisions.  &c. ;  and  the  income  from  travel 
.along  the  Bedford  road,  if  it  all  went  to  the 
Brantly  House,  would  not  half  pay  for  these." 

"  Hyer  is  very  sanguine.'* 

"  As  to  his  ability  to  take  care  of  himself,  no 
doubt ;  especially  if  Fithian  is  on  his  side.  But, 
seriously,  Mr.  Lyman,  how  is  something  to  be 
made  out  of  nothing  ?  If  a  hotel  have  no  guests 
worth  talking  about,  where  is  the  profit  to  come 
from  ?" 

"  There  are  to  be  a  series  of  entertainments 
in  the  great  dining  hall — two  or  three  in  a 
month." 

"Of  what  character?" 

"  Balls  ;  musical  and  literary  entertainments  ; 
private  theatricals  and  the  like.  Any  and  every 
thing  by  which  to  attract  and  interest  the 
people." 


150  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  How  is  that  going  to  pay  ?" 

"  There  will  be  suppers,  of  course ;  and — 
and- 

"  And  an  open  bar/'  said  Mr.  Norman,  finish 
ing  the  sentence. 

«  Yes." 

"  Does  this  meet  with  your  approval  ?" 

"  Not  exactly." 

«  Why  ?" 

".  I'm  afraid  of  it." 

"  On  what  account  ?" 

"  It  will  not  be  good  for  our  young  men." 

There  came  a  troubled  look  into  Mr.  Ly man's 
face,  and  an  expression  of  pain  about  his  mouth. 

"  No,  Mr.  Lyman,  it  will  not  be  good  for  them  ! 
It  is  setting  a  snare  for  their  feet,  and  every 
man's  son  will  be  in  danger.  Your  son ;  Fith- 
ian's;  Irwin's ;  Sylvester's;  Griscomb's,  and  all 
the  rest !" 

Mr.  Norman  saw  the  lawyer  start  as  from  a 
sudden  pang.  His  manner  grew  restless  and 
nervous. 


THE  NEW  HOTEL  NOT  A  SUCCESS.       151 

"  As  the  old  Spanish  proverb  has  it,  <  Curses 
like  chickens  come  home  to  roost.'  Already  this 
evil  day,  so  bright  in  its  morning  and  noon,  is 
drawing  to  a  cloudy  ending,  and  the  chickens  are 
coining  home  to  roost.  Happy  will  you  be,  my 
friend,  if  some  of  them  be  not  found  in  the  goodly 
tree  that  stands  by  your  own  door !" 

Another  start;  a  swift  pallor  flung  across  the 
face  ;  a  hard  closing  of  the  mouth. 

At  this  moment  the  office  door,  which  opened 
into  Mr.  Lyman's  dwelling,  was  pushed  ajar. 
Mr.  Norman,  who  was  sitting  opposite  this  door, 
saw  the  face  of  Mrs.  Lyman  for  a  single  instant. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  its  haunting  image  faded 
out  of  his  mind. 

Mr.  Lyman  arose,  saying,  "Excuse  me  for  a 
moment,"  and  went  out.  It  was  several  minutes 
before  he  returned,  his  countenance  still  wearing 
a  very  sober  expression.  Seating  himself,  he  let 
his  eyes  fall  to  the  floor,  and  remained  silent,  as 
one  troubled  and  in  perplexity  of  mind.  Mr. 
Norman  waited  for  him  to  speak.  The  silence 


152  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

had  become  almost  embarrassing,  when  Mr.  Ly- 
man  lifted  his  eyes  and  said,  with  a  bitter  em 
phasis  on  his  words : 

"  The  chickens  are  coming  home,  Mr.  Norman." 

"I  know  it,  my  friend;  and  my  heart  grieves 
that  it  is  so." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?"  The  lawyer  was  los 
ing  his  self-poised  manner.  He  asked  this  ques 
tion  with  the  desperate  air  of  a  person  at  his  wit's 
end.  His  eyes,  which  were  fixed  upon  Mr.  Nor 
man,  had  an  appealing  and  almost  helpless  ex 
pression. 

"  Prevention  is  always  better  than  cure,  Mr. 
Lyman.  It  is  easier  to  keep  out  an  enemy  than 
to  expel  him;  easier  to  make  a  dyke  secure 
against  the  encroaching  sea,  than  to  stop  the  rush 
of  waters  after  a  breach  is  made  and  heal  the 
ruin  which  has  been  wrought  by  a  desolating 
flood.  One  thing  is  certain ;  if  you  widen  the 
breach  through  which  this  flood  of  evil  is  now 
pouring  in  upon  us,  as  you  propose  doing,  there 
can  be  little  hope  for  the  young  men  of  our  town, 


THE   NEW   HOTEL   NOT   A   SUCCESS.  153 

too  many  of  whom  are  already  more  than  ankle 
deep  in  the  rising  waters." 

"I  see!  I  see!  But  my  views  were  disre 
garded.  I  urged  the  dangerous  effect  of  these 
winter  dissipations  on  our  young  people;  but 
Fithian  swept  the  argument  aside  as  of  no  rele 
vancy  whatever.  That  was  something,  he  said, 
with  which  we  had  nothing  to  do.  Our  business 
was  to  take  care  of  the  interests  of  stockholders, 
and  see  that  their  investment,  made  in  good 
faith,  was  rendered  productive." 

"Has  he  not  seen,  what  every  one  else  sees, 
that  his  son  Charles  is  drinking  too  much 
already?"  asked  Mr.  Norman. 

"  I  don't  know.  He  is  blind  if  he  does  not 
see  it." 

"  Scarcely  a  day  passes  that  he  may  not  be 
observed  lounging  about  the  door  of  some  saloon. 
A  year  ago  his  face  was  clear,  ruddy  and  innocent 
as  a  boy's ;  but  all  that  is  gone  now.  Then  he 
bore  himself  modestly,  as  became  his  years.  Now 
he  has  a  bold,  jaunty,  half-insolent  manner  that 


154  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

strikes  you  unpleasantly.  The  coarseness  in 
herited  from  his  father,  he  is  making  his  own  by 
living  it  out  for  himself.  Was  it  a  good  thing, 
Mr.  Lynian,  to  give  this  young  man  an  oppor 
tunity  for  growth  in  this  evil  direction?  Is  no 
one  responsible  for  the  enticements  that  have  led 
him  out  of  a  safe  way  ?  If  he  goes  to  ruin,  does 
the  sin  thereof  lie  at  no  man's  door  ?" 

Mr.  Lyman  put  up  his  hand  half-involun- 
tarily,  as  if  to  defend  himself  against  an  accusa 
tion. 

"  If  Charley  Fithian  were  the  only  young  man 
in  danger  of  going  to  ruin,"  Mr.  Norman  con 
tinued. 

Just  then  the  office  door  was  again  pushed 
ajar,  and  Mrs.  Lyman  called  her  husband  in  a 
low  voice,  in  which  Mr.  Norman  perceived  an 
anxious  quiver.  Mr.  Lyman  went  out,  closing 
the  door  after  him.  In  a  few  minutes  he  came 
back  and  said : 

"  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  excuse  me,  Mr. 
Norman ;  but  call  in  again.  I  want  to  have  a 


THE    NEW    HOTEL    NOT    A    SUCCESS.  155 

longer  talk  with  you.  Things,  as  I  have  said,  are 
not  coming  out  right.  There's  an  ugly  drift  that 
I'm  afraid  of;  and  it  must  be  checked  if  possible. 
I  wonder  that  I  could  have  been  so  blind." 

"All  may  not  be  ruined,  though  much  has 
been  lost,  my  friend ;  and  lost,  because  your 
influence,  which  is  large,  has  been  cast  upon  the 
wrong  side.  I  take  heart  once  more  in  what  you 
have  just  said.  Yes;  I  will  see  you  again. 
Good-evening." 


156  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BITTER    FRUIT. 

A  S  Mr.  Norman  left  the   office  by  the  street 

door,  Mr.  Lyman  passed  through  the  door 

opening  into  his  dwelling.    His  wife  met  him  in 

the  lower  hall.    Her  face  had  a  distressed  look, 

and  about  her  eyes  were  signs  of  weeping. 

"  Oh,  dear !  Isn't  it  dreadful !"  she  said,  as 
she  placed  her  hands  on  her  husband's  shoulder, 
and  laid  her  face  down  upon  them,  a  shiver  run 
ning  through  her  frame. 

"  He's  asleep  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  Marie?" 

"  She's  sitting  in  her  room,  as  cold  and  impas 
sive  as  stone.  I  wish  you  would  go  up  to  her. 
She  frightens  me." 


BITTER   FRUIT.  157 

"What  does  she  say?" 

66  Nothing.  My  words  make  no  more  impres 
sion  on  her  than  if  she  were  marble." 

Mr.  Lyman  went  slowly  up  to  his  daughter's 
room.  He  felt  as  if  a  mountain  were  on  his 
shoulders,  and  the  weight  bearing  him  down. 
As  his  wife  had  said,  he  found  Marie  sitting  in  a 
chair,  her  eyes  set  in  a  stony  gaze,  and  her  lips 
drawn  so  tightly  back  against  her  teeth  that  all 
color  and  roundness  were  pressed  out  of  them. 
He  laid  his  hand  upon  her  and  called  her  name ; 
but  she  neither  stirred  nor  answered  ;  and  it  was 
all  in  vain  that  he  tried  by  loving  words  and  acts 
of  tenderness  to  break  the  spell  which  had  almost 
closed  her  senses  to  outward  impressions. 

Half  an  hour  before,  as  Mrs.  Lyman  and  her 
daughter  were  sitting  together,  they  were  startled 
by  a  noise  in  the  hall,  as  of  some  one  entering 
from  the  street,  and  stumbling  about  in  an  uncer 
tain  kind  of  a  way.  The  two  women  looked  at 
each  other,  and  Mrs.  Lyman  saw  her  daughter's 
face  grow  deadly  pale.  Both  started  up  and 


158  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

made  their  way  into  the  hall.  The  truth  was 
revealed  in  an  instant.  Confronting  them  stood 
Frank  Sylvester,  trying  to  steady  himself  with 
one  hand  borne  against  the  wall.  His  face  was 
red  and  his  eyes  watery  and  glistening.  A  glance 
told  that  he  was  so  badly  intoxicated  as  to  be 
scarcely  conscious  of  what  he  was  doing. 

"  Good-evening  !"  he  said,  trying  to  be  gay  and 
at  his  ease.  Then  seeing  by  the  shocked  and 
distressed  expression  in  the  two  women's  faces 
that  they  were  aware  of  his  condition — he  was 
too  drunk  to  know  for  himself  just  how  bad  it 
was — he  made  an  effort  to  appear  self-possessed 
as  well  as  surprised  at  his  reception. 

"  Why  bless  me,  Marie !  What's  the  matter  ? 
Nobody  sick  or  dead,  I  hope !" 

The  girl,  recovering  herself  by  a  strong  effort 
of  will,  passed  quickly  to  the  young  man's  side, 
and  drawing  an  arm  through  one  of  his,  was  lead 
ing  him  towards  the  parlor  door  when  her  mother 
interposed,  and  said,  with  much  severity  of  man 
ner : 


BITTER    FRUIT.  159 

"No;  we  don't  want  your  visit  this  evening, 
Frank.  Go  home  !  That's  the  best  place  for 
you." 

But  Marie,  without  heeding  what  her  mother 
was  saying,  drew  her  arm  strongly  on  that  of 
young  Sylvester  and  led  him  into  the  parlor, 
where  she  seated  him  in  one  of  the  easy-chairs. 
The  color  was  still  absent  from  her  face. 

"  Well,  this  is  comfortable !"  ejaculated  the 
young  man,  in  a  maudlin  way,  as  he  laid  him 
self  back  against  the  cushions.  "  But,  blame  it 
all!  What's  the  matter  ?  What's  up?  You  look 
as  if  you'd  both  seen  a  ghost/' 

Marie  did  not  answer. 

"  Where's  Horace  ?  Is  he  jolly  ?  Had  a  splen 
did  time  this  afternoon  !" 

"  Where  is  Horace  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Lyman? 
steadying  her  voice  as  she  spoke,  that  she  might 
not  betray  the  keen  anxiety  Sylvester's  remark 
had  occasioned. 

"Who?     What?" 


160  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"Horace?  Were  you  and  he  together  this 
afternoon  ?" 

Something  in  Mrs.  Lyman's  voice  had  reached 
the  young  man's  dull  perception  and  put  him  on 
his  guard. 

"  Not  as  I  know.  Horace  ?  Let  me  see. 
Isn't  he  at  home  ?" 

«  No." 

"  Isn't  at  home  ?  ha  !  That's  odd."  And  he 
shook  his  head  in  a  doubtful  way. 

66  Frank  Sylvester  !"  Mrs.  Lyman  placed  her 
hand  on  him,  and  spoke  in  a  tone  of  authority. 
"  Answer  me  in  a  plain  way  !" 

"  Certainly,  ma'am,  certainly.  What  is  it  you 
Would  know  ?" 

"  Where  were  you  this  afternoon  ?" 

"Me?" 

"Yes,  you!" 

"Well,  let  me  see.  Where  was  I?  Now 
that's  curious,  Mrs.  Lyman  ;  but  blamed  if  I  can 
remember." 

And  the  young  man  laughed  in  a  silly  way,  as 


BITTER    FRUIT.  161 

he  settled  himself  back  into  his  chair,  and  shut 
his  eyes.  Press  him  with  questions  as  she  would, 
Mrs.  Lyman  was  not  able  to  draw  from  him  any 
thing  about  her  son. 

Marie  was  as  one  who  had  lost  the  power  of 
speech.  She  had  moved  a  chair  close  to  that  in 
which  her  lover  was  seated — they  were  engaged, 
and  only  waiting  for  the  consent  of  the  girl's  pa 
rents  to  fix  an  early  wedding-day — and  was  bend 
ing  towards  him  and  watching  him  with  a  strange 
intentness.  There  was  more  of  sorrow  and  pain, 
than  of  disgust  and  repulsion  in  her  face. 

A  dead,  oppressive  silence  followed.  This 
was  broken  in  a  few  minutes  by  the  young  man's 
heavy  breathing.  lie  had  fallen  asleep. 

"  Marie  !"  Mrs  Lyman  spoke  to  her  daughter, 
who,  with  closed  eyes  and  a  grieving,  almost 
ashen  face,  was  resting  her  head  against  the  chair 
in  which  Sylvester  was  sitting. 

She    saw  her    eyelids    quiver,  and  then  shut 
down    more   closely.       It   was    the    girl's    only 
response. 
11 


162  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRAXTLY. 

"  Marie,  dear !"  The  mother  laid  her  hand  on 
her  daughter's  arm.  "  Come  !" 

As  she  spoke  she  made  an  effort  to  induce  her 
to  rise.  Marie  yielded,  and  going  with  her 
mother,  went  up-stairs  to  her  own  room,  where 
Mrs.  Lyman  left  her,  and  returned  to  the  parlor. 
She  found  Sylvester  sleeping  heavily.  It  was 
then  that  she  first  beckoned  her  husband  from 
the  office,  and  made  him  acquainted  with  the 
state  of  affairs.  When  she  returned  to  Marie's 
room,  she  found  her  sitting  just  as  she  had  left 
her,  still  and  motionless  as  though  but  a  lifeless 
image.  After  vainly  trying  to  arouse  her  to 
some  response,  Mrs.  Lyman  grew  alarmed,  and 
called  her  husband  again. 

The  father's  efforts,  as  we  have  seen,  were  no 
more  availing.  Mrs.  Lyman  now  endeavored  to 
remove  her  clothing,  and  get  her  upon  the  bed. 
But  at  this  she  made  resistance,  saying, 

"Won't  you  let  me  alone,  mother?"  Her 
voice  was  dull  and  low. 

Distressed  and  bewildered,  Mrs.  Lyman  stood 


BITTER    FRUIT.  163 

irresolute  for  awhile,  and  then  went  from  the 
room.  She  had  scarcely  closed  the  door  behind 
her,  when  she  heard  the  key  turned  on  the  inner 
side. 

For  over  two  hours  the  young  man  slept 
heavily.  At  the  end  of  this  time  he  awoke,  the 
effect  of  what  he  had  been  drinking  nearly  gone, 
lie  saw  no  one  but  Mr.  Lyman,  who  talked  to 
him  with  great  plainness  and  severity ;  ending 
with  the  declaration,  that  until  there  was  an 
entire  change  in  his  habits,  he  must  consider  his 
engagement  with  Marie  suspended. 

Deeply  humiliated,  Sylvester  returned  home, 
resolving  to  be  more  upon  his  guard  in  future. 
In  a  day  or  two  he  called  to  see  Marie ;  but, 
under  instruction  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyman, 
the  servant  refused  to  admit  him.  These  things 
were  soon  noised  abroad,  and  became  a  staple  of 
gossip  in  all  the  town. 

Marie  Lyman  was  not  a  weak  girl.  After  the 
first  shock  of  this  humiliating  affair  was  over, 
and  she  had  time  to  recover,  she  drew  about 


164         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

herself  so  close  a  veil  of  silence  and  reserve  that 
even  her  mother  was  in  some  doubt  as  to  the 
real  state  of  her  feelings.  To  no  remarks  about 
her  lover  that  occurred  in  the  home  circle  did 
she  make  any  response  ;  and  her  trials  on  this 
ecore  were  not  a  few.  Her  brother,  who  knew 
more  about  the  habits  of  Sylvester  than  any  one 
else  in  the  family,  took  part  with  his  father 
and  mother  against  him,  and  let  no  opportunity 
for  dropping  a  word,  which  he  thought  might 
prejudice  his  sister's  mind,  pass  without  improve 
ment. 

Two  weeks  went  by,  during  which  time 
Frank  had  called  several  times  without  being 
admitted.  It  had  been  his  habit  to  meet  Marie 
at  church  every  Sunday,  and  accompany  her 
home.  When  the  next  Sunday  came,  he  was 
at  church  as  usual  and  fully  resolved  to  make 
good  the  opportunity  for  getting  a  word  with  her 
after  the  services  were  over.  But,  to  his  great 
disappointment,  she  was  absent  from  the  family 
pew.  The  second  week  passed,  as  we  have  said, 


BITTER    FRUIT.  165 

without  his  being  able  to  get  an  interview.  On 
the  Sunday  following  Marie  was  in  church.  At 
the  close  of  the  services,  as  she  walked  down  the 
aisle  in  company  with  her  mother,  Sylvester 
made  his  way  to  her  side,  and  kept  his  pluce 
there  until  they  reached  the  vestibule,  when  the 
brother  of  Marie  attempted,  in  a  quiet  way,  to 
come  in  between  them ;  but  Marie,  in  a  way  as 
seemingly  unintentional  as  his  own,  drew  close 
to  her  lover,  thus  baffling  his  purpose.  It  was 
no  place  for  a  scene.  Marie's  action  gave  to  all 
who  were  interested  an  index  to  her  feelings. 
For  a  part  of  the  way  home  her  brother  walked 
with  them ;  and  then,  not  feeling  entirely  satis 
fied  of  his  right  to  interfere  with  his  sister,  drop 
ped  behind  and  joined  his  father  and  mother. 

As  far  as  could  be  observed,  but  few  words 
passed  between  Frank  and  Marie.  On  arriving 
at  home,  they  separated  with  scarcely  a  pause, 
the  young  man  walking  on  without  turning  to 
speak  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  were  close 
behind,  and  Marie  passing  into  the  house  with 


1G6  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

an  almost  hurried  movement.  There  was  little 
doubt  in  the  mind  of  either  the  father  or  mother 
that  an  understanding  had  been  established 
between  their  daughter  and  her  lover ;  and  this 
was  confirmed  by  an  indefinable  something  in  the 
girl's  face  when  she  met  them  at  the  dinner 
table. 

In  the  afternoon  Marie  came  from  her  room, 
dressed  to  go  out. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  asked  her  mother, 
who  met  her  on  her  way  down-stairs. 

i/ 

"  To  see  Fanny  Stewart,"  was  answered.  This 
girl  was  one  of  Marie's  most  intimate  friends. 

Mrs.  Lyman  looked  at  her  daughter  steadily 
for  some  moments.  "  Only  to  see  Fanny?" 
There  was  doubt  in  her  troubled  eyes  as  well  as 
in  her  voice.  Marie's  gaze  fell  away  from  that 
of  her  mother's.  Mrs.  Lyman  laid  her  hand'on 
the  girl's  arm  and  drew  her  into  her  own  cham 
ber,  -near  the  door  of  which  they  were  standing. 

"Sit  down,  my  child."  The  mother's  voice 
was  low  and  tender ;  and  Marie  saw  that  her 


BITTEIl    FRUIT.  167 

eyes  were  glistening.  "  You  are  going  to  meet 
Frank." 

Marie  was  silent. 

"  Against  the  wish  of  your  mother,  and  against 
your  father's  positive  command." 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  Is  this  well,  my  daughter  ?" 

"Was  it  well  for  father  to  lay  this  command 
upon  me  ?"  answered  the  girl,  drawing  herself 
more  erectly.  "  He  should  have  thought  first, 
whether  it  were  possible  for  me  to  keep  it.  I 
have  tried;  but  it  is  riot  possible.  I  must  see 
Frank.  Are  we  not  engaged  ?  Am  I  not  to  be 
his  wife  ?  Do  I  not  love  him  ?"  She  spoke 
quickly  and  with  increasing  excitement  of  man 
ner. 

"  Oh,  Marie  !  Marie  !"  rejoined  Mrs.  Lyman, 
her  distress  increasing.  "  Djn't  talk  in  that  way. 
No  woman  truly  loves  a  man  whom  she  cannot 
respect.  Frank  must  show  himself  worthy  of 
your  love." 

"  When  I  gave  him  my  love,  I  gave  it  freely, 


168  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

and  for  life.  He  was  worthy  then,  and  I  hold 
him  to  be  worthy  now.  For  'better  or  for  worse/ 
mother !  The  marriage  rite  cannot  make  the 
promise  already  given  more  binding  than  it  is 
now.  A  woman's  love  for  a  man  is  of  little 
worth  if  it  fall  away  from  him  at  the  first  sign 
of  human  frailty.  Who  is  perfect?  Is  Horace 
so  much  better  than  Frank,  that  he  sets  himself 
in  judgment  upon  him  ?  Is  he  my  master,  that 
he  presumes  to  order  my  ways  and  to  control 
my  actions  ?" 

There  was  a  flash  in  Marie's  wide-open  eyes 
and  a  curve  of  contempt  about  her  lips  that 
were  setting  themselves  into  an  expression  of 
defiance. 

"  Oh,  Marie !"  was  all  that  the  surprised 
mother  could  say. 

"  If  father  were  in  nothing  to  blame " 

"Don't!  my  daughter." 

"  If  father  were  in  nothing  to  blame,"  Marie 
went  on,  speaking  with  a  bitter  emphasis,  "for 
what  has  happened  to  Frank,  and  to  other  young 


BITTER    FRUIT.  169 

men  in  Brantly  besides,  there  might  be  some 
excuse  for  his  setting  himself  so  bitterly  against 
him.  .  It  was  only  after  a  stumbling-block  was 
put  in  Frank's  way  that  he  fell;  and  you  know 
how  much  father  had  to  do  with  setting  up  this 
stumbling-block.  The  way  I've  heard  it  talked 
about  has  set  my  cheeks  on  fire  scores  and  scores 
of  times !  Because  he  has  fallen  once,  shall  I 
turn  away  from  him  ?  Is  love  of  no  more 
worth  !  Shall  I  not,  rather,  draw  closer,  that 
I  may  protect  and  save  him  ?" 

"My  poor  child!"  fell,  sobbing,  from  the 
mother's  lips. 

"  You  are  making  too  much  of  all  this.  Frank 
has  had  a  lesson  that  he  will  not  soon  forget. 
He  told  me  so  this  morning.  I  don't  believe 
he'll  ever  touch  a  glass  of  liquor  again." 

But  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Lyman  was  not  assured. 
For  months  she  had  been  watching  this  young 
man,  and  with  a  carefulness  of  observation  that 
was  not  to  be  deceived.  She  had  noticed  a 
gradual  change  in  the  expression  of  his  face. 


170  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

The  eyes,  once  so  clear  and  bright,  were  often 
dull  and  heavy.  His  mouth  was  growing  coarser; 
and  sometimes  she  noted  a  dark  congestion  of 
the  skin  that  was  usually  so  fair  and  ruddy. 
His  manner  was  not  always  the  same;  now 
there  was  an  unwonted  gayety  in  his  humor, 
occasionally  verging  on  to  silliness  ;  and  now  he 
was  quiet  almost  to  sluggishness.  Many  times, 
on  coining  near  him,  had  she  detected  on  his 
breath  the  fumes  of  liquor.  The  downward 
drag  of  the  appetite  he  was  indulging  had 
become  too  apparent  to  Mrs.  Lyman  to  leave 
her  any  room  for  confidence  in  the  young  man's 
future.  She  knew  that  against  any  good  reso 
lutions  he  might  form,  this  appetite  would  set 
itself,  and  grow  stronger  and  stronger  under 
allurement,  until  all  obstructions  were  swept 
away. 

"  If  Frank  had  a  different  temperament ;  if 
he  were  not  so  fond  of  eating  and  drinking;  if 
he  had  acquired  habits  of  self-control,  there 
would  be  room  for  confidence,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman  ; 


BITTER    FRUIT.  171 

"  but  he  is  weak  of  purpose  and  self-indulgent, 
and  his  good  resolutions,  when  opposed  to  appe 
tite  will,  I  sadly  fear,  be  as  flax  in  the  flame." 

Marie  made  no  reply.  She  was  sitting  with 
her  face  turned  a  little  away,  so  that  her  mother 
could  not  see  its  expression. 

"  Think,  my  child.  Your  whole  future  is 
involved  in  the  momentous  present.  A  drunk 
ard's  wife  !  Have  you  any  conception  of  what 
that  means  ?" 

Marie  turned  swiftly  upon  her  mother,  her 
eyes  flashing. 

"  There  has  been  enough  of  this,"  she  an 
swered,  with  an  angry  thrill  in  her  voice.  "  He 
is  in  no  more  danger  than  the  rest."  And  rising 
from  her  chair  as  she  spoke,  she  was  moving 
away,  when  her  steps  were  arrested  by  the 
sound  of  her  father's  voice,  calling  to  her  from 
the  adjoining  chamber,  the  door  of  which  had, 
unnoticed,  been  standing  ajar. 

A  sudden  pallor  struck  across  Marie's  face,  as 
she  turned  and  saw  her  father  enter. 


172  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  My  daughter  !"  Pain  and  sorrow  and  tender 
remonstrance  were  in  his  voice,  as  he  uttered 
her  name.  She  stepped  hack  from  the  door 
through  which  she  was  about  to  pass,  into  a 
chair.  As  Mr.  Lyman  came  forward  and  laid 
his  hand  upon  Marie,  Mrs.  Lyman  retired  from 
the  room,  leaving  them  alone. 

"  I  heard  all,  my  daughter,"  he  said,  as  he  sat 
down  beside  her,  "all  about  my  responsibility 
for  the  stumbling-blocks  over  which  not  only 
Frank,  but  too  many  more  in  Brantly  have 
fallen." 

Marie  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  Pier 
father  saw  that  she  was  trembling  violently. 

"  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  my  child.  I  am 
too  much  concerned  and  troubled  to  be  angry," 
he  continued,  his  voice  growing  softer. 

But  she  did  not  withdraw  her  hands,  nor  lift 
her  face. 

"  What  is  past  is  past,  and  cannot  be  recalled," 
Mr.  Lyman  went  on.  "  It  is  to  the  future  that 
we  must  look  now  ;  and  against  the  evil  threat- 


BITTER    FRUIT.  ITS 

ening  us  in  the  future  that  we  must  be  on  guard. 
It  is  not  a  question  as  to  responsibility,  but  a 
question  as  to  facts.  No  matter  who  may  have 
been  to  blame  for  putting  temptation  in  Frank's 
way,  the  fact  that  he  is  becoming  intemperate  is 
something  we  cannot  ignore." 

Marie  raised  her  head  with  a  quick  motion, 
and  Mr.  Lyman  saw  an  almost  indignant  light  in 
her  eyes. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  father !  He  has  not 
become  intemperate.  No  one  ever  saw  hirn 
under  the  influence  of  liquor  until  the  night  he 
came  here.  Is  a  man  to  be  utterly  condemned 
and  cast  off  for  a  single  fault  ?  He  was  exposed  to 
unusual  temptation,  and  taken  off  his  guard. 
Others  were  more  to  blame  than  he !" 

'•  I  am  in  the  way  of  learning  a  great  deal  more 
than  you  about  his  habits  and  associations ;  and  I 
know  that  he  is  drifting  steadily  out  upon  dan 
gerous  waters." 

"  The  greater  reason,  then,  why  my  hand 
should  keep  fast  hold  upon  him  and  draw  him 


174  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

back."  The  girl's  excitement  was  only  momen 
tary.  She  spoke  now,  in  calm,  but  very  decided 
tone.  "  Does  love  abandon  its  object  at  the  first 
sign  of  danger  ?" 

"  My  dear,  dear  child !  You  know  nothing 
of  the  dreadful  risk  you  are  taking.  If  it  were 
a  danger  from  which  your  love  could  shield  him, 
the  case  might  be  different.  But  a  depraved 
appetite  is  stronger  to  impel  than  love  is  to 
.restrain;  and  in  my  observation,  there  is  no 
appetite  so  overmastering  as  the  appetite  for 
liquor.  When  a  young  man  of  Frank's  peculiar 
temperament  comes  fairly  under  its  influence, 
the  case  is  well  nigh  hopeless." 

"  It  is  from  this  danger  that  I  would  save 
him,"  Marie  answered,  with  a  decision  of  manner 
that  showed  her  purpose  to  be  unshaken.  ''And 
because  the  danger  is  at  hand,  shall  I  fall  away 
from  him,  and  so  make  the  peril  greater  ?  No, 
father  !  My  heart  says  No !  My  reason  says 
No  !  All  that  is  in  me  rises  up  and  says  No  ! 
No  !  Never !" 


BITTER    FRUIT.  175 

Mr.  Lyman  looked  at  his  daughter  in  mute  sur 
prise.  She  had  drawn  herself  to  an  erect  bear 
ing.  Her  large  eyes  were  intense  in  their 
expression.  A  fixed  resolve  was  on  every  fea 
ture.  He  saw  a  reflection  of  his  own  strong  will 
in  her  face.  Suddenly  the  latent  forces  of  her 
character  had  been  roused  into  life  and  were 
bearing  her  onward.  Should  he  set  his  strong 
will  against  hers?  Grapple  with  the  child  here 
tofore  passive  and  compliant — bending  or  break 
ing,  as  the  case  might  be  ? 

To  set  himself  in  an  attitude  of  resistance  and 
bear  down  what  opposed  him,  was  ever  Mr.  Ly- 
man's  first  impulse  ;  and  only  the  self-mastery 
of  reason  saved  him  now  from  a  repetition  of  the 
command  which  Marie  was  about  breaking.  But 
the  clearer  his  thoughts  grew,  as  reason  held  his 
natural  impulses  in  check,  and  the  more  closely 
he  looked  at  the  new  aspect  of  things,  the  deeper 
became  his  conviction  that,  for  good  or  ill,  his 
daughter's  future  was  bound  up  with  the  future 
of  Frank  Sylvester ;  and  that  in  his  attitude 


176  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

towards  her,  now  and  hereafter,  this  would  have 
to  be  kept  steadily  in  view.  A  sense  of  weakness 
came  upon  him.  He  felt  as  one  borne  helplessly 
along  by  a  suddenly  rising  flood. 

"Will  you  not  wait  for  a  single  day  longer?" 
he  asked. 

"  To  what  good  purpose  ?"  Marie's  firmness 
was  in  strong  contrast  with  her  father's  indeter 
minate  manner.  "  Waiting  can  change  noth 
ing."  Then,  in  a  lower  voice,  in  which  a  slight 
tremor  was  apparent :  "  Except  it  be  my  influ 
ence  over  Frank." 

She  arose  as  she  said  this,  and  stood  looking 
steadily  at  her  father. 

"  What  am  I  to  do,  rny  child  ?  I  cannot  see 
you  walk  blindly  over  a  precipice,  or  into  a  pit 
fall,  and  not  make  an  effort  to  save  you  1" 

"  It  would  have  been  better  if  no  pit-fall  had 
been  dug  in  my  way.  But  I  cannot  turn  aside 
because  it  is  there  !" 

She  stood  for  a  moment  longer,  and  then  turn 
ing  from  her  father,  went  slowly  from  the  room, 


BITTER   FRUIT.  177 

shutting  the  door  behind  her.     As  she  did  so, 
Mr.  Lyrnan's  head  sank  upon  his  breast. 

"Better  if  no  pit-fall  had  been  dug  in  my 
way  I"  How  the  sentence  hurt  him,  with  its 
covert  accusation ! 


12 


178         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    REACTION. 

S,  they  were  coming  home  to  roost,  these 
curses  which  Mr.  Lyman  had  sent  forth 
upon  his  neighbors,  not  caring  who  might  lose  if 
only  the  gain  were  his. 

Not  within  the  memory  of  any  one  had  there 
been  such  dull  and  unsatisfactory  times  as  came 
upon  Brantly  in  the  winter  that  followed.  To 
this  was  added  a  new  thing  for  the  quiet  and 
comfortable  town — destitution,  suffering  and 
many  acts  of  violence.  And  another  new 
thing— the  loud  voices  of  young  men  and 
maidens  ringing  often  through  the  still  air,  as 
the  gay  assemblages  at  the  Brantly  House  broke 
up  and  the  revellers  went  home  at  midnight. 


THE   REACTION.  179 

Everything  had  been  stimulated  by  the  freer 
circulation  of  money  as  the  building  of  the  great 
hotel  progressed ;  and  catching  the  spirit  of  the 
new  public  sentiments  that  prevailed,  people  of 
all  stations  and  all  conditions,  with  only  rare 
exceptions,  took  it  for  granted  that  a  new  era 
of  prosperity  had  dawned,  and  that  henceforth 
the  town  would  grow  rapidly  and  everybody's 
income  have  proportionate  increase.  To  drift 
into  larger  expenditures  was  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world.  Furniture  began  to  look  old- 
fashioned  and  dingy ;  carpets  faded  suddenly ; 
houses  which  had  been  all  well  enough,  stood 
now  sadly  in  need  of  paint,  repairs,  additions  and 
improvements.  Mrs.  Jones  bought  new  carpets, 
and  Mrs.  Smith  followed  suit.  Jackson  gave  his 
house  a  fresh  coat  of  paint,  which  made  Robin 
son's  look  so  rusty  and  weather-stained  that  his 
wife  gave  him  no  rest  until  their  house  stood 
forth  in  as  clear  and  bright  a  dress  as  their 
neighbor's.  So  it  went  on,  until  Brantiy  fur 
bished  itself  up,  and  looked  new  and  fresh  and 


180         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

wide  awake.  If  this  had  been  all.  But  it  was 
not  all.  Every  one  began  living  a  little  more 
freely  and  a  little  more  ostentatiously.  Neigh 
bors  observed  their  neighbors  more  closely  ;  and 
the  gossip  of  the  town  ran  chiefly  in  the  direction 
of  housekeeping  affairs ;  and  made  itself  felt  as  a 
stimulant  to  extravagant  emulation.  Naturally, 
the  cost  of  living  was  increased  ;  the  rich  as  well 
as  the  poor  sharing  in  the  common  sentiment, 
and  taking  part  in  the  common  life  of  the  place. 
Where  the  ready  cash  was  not  in  hand  for  the 
things  desired,  and  that  "could  be  afforded,"  a 
resort  was  had  in  too  many  cases  to  credit  at  the 
stores,  and  many  who  in  times  past  never  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  in  debt,  began  to  run  up  bills 
which,  when  the  pay-day  came,  were  found  in 
nearly  every  case  to  be  twice  as  large  as  ex 
pected. 

A  sudden  inflation ;  and  then  almost  as  sud 
den  a  collapse.  The  winter  brought  a  chilling 
shrinkage  in  everything.  There  having  been 
unusually  large  sales  during  the  spring  and 


THE    REACTION.  181 

summer,  storekeepers,  in  anticipation  of  an  in 
creasing  demand  for  goods,  bad  laid  in  heavily 
fur  the  fall  trade,  which  proved  to  be  unusually 
light.  The  consequence  was  that,  in  addition 
to  the  many  uncollected  accounts  on  their  books, 
they  had  shelves  full  of  unsold  merchandise  to 
carry  over  until  the  next  season.  These  had  to 
be  paid  for;  and  as  a  considerable  part  of  the 
sums  required  for  this  purpose  was  still  in  the 
shape  of  unpaid  accounts,  urgent  requests  for 
settlements  began  to  be  made.  Then  followed 
a  general  state  of  annoyance,  irritation,  trouble 
or  humiliation,  according  to  the  temperament  or 
condition  of  the  various  debtors.  Old  family 
horses  were  sold,  in  half  a  dozen  cases,  in  order 
to  get  money  to  pay  for  the  new  carpets  or  new 
furniture  that  were  no  longer  enjoyed.  More 
than  twenty  houses  were  burdened  with  mort 
gages,  that  their  owners  might  free  themselves 
from  the  burden  of  debts  incurred  during  the 
brief  period  in  which  Brantly  felt  herself  mov- 


182  THE    BAB-ROOMS   AT   BBANTLY. 

ing    swiftly  forward  in   the  way  of  distinction 
and  prosperity. 

The  result  of  all  this  was  a  pinching  system 
of  economy  that  became  general  through  the 
town,  and  in  consequence  of  which  matters  grew 
worse.  Even  those  who  were  best  off  and 
easiest  in  money-matters  were  influenced  by  the 
common  feeling,  and  began  cutting  down  here 
and  lopping  off  there — some  from  a  spirit  of 
saving,  and  some  to  set  a  good  example  to  their 
neighbors.  Many  women  who  lived  by  domestic 
service  lost  their  places  and  were  thrown  for 
support  upon  friends  and  relatives,  who  felt  the 
burden  sorely.  Work  of  nearly  all  kinds  was 
suspended,  except  in  the  few  establishments 
which  had  a  market  out  of  town  for  their  goods; 
and  in  one  or  two  of  these  wages  were  cut  down 
and  the  number  of  workmen  reduced,  because 
capital  had  been  diverted  to  the  new  hotel  and 
locked  up  there  so  closely  as  to  be  entirely  out 
of  reach.  Even  the  drinking  and  billiard 
saloons,  which  had  multiplied  as  the  locusts  of 


THE    EEACTION.  183 

Egypt,  and  flourished  for  a  time,  were  affected 
by  the  general  depression  and  scarcity  of 
money,  and  one  after  another  put  out  their  red 
lights  and  shut  their  doors,  until  nearly  half 
their  number  had  disappeared.  But  enough 
remained  to  curse  the  town  with  an  eating  and 
malignant  cancer. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  from  December  to  March 
the  Brantly  house  had  its  enticing  entertain 
ments;  and  every  week  the  young  people  for 
miles  around  were  gathered  in  its  parlors  and 
spacious  dining  hall.  Music  and  dancing,  tab 
leaux  and  private  theatricals,  readings  and  reci 
tations,  and  then  a  supper.  Always  the  supper 
and  wine.  And  what  of  the  result?  Did  it 
pay  ? 

The  stormiest  meeting  the  directors  of  the 
hotel  company  had  yet  known  was  the  one  held 
at  the  close  of  this  season,  when  the  manager, 
Andrew  Hyer,  submitted  his  accounts,  and  it 
became  known  that  in  three  months  the  expense 
of  keeping  up  the  hotel  had  exceeded  the  receipts 


184  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

by  nearly  five  thousand  dollars !  Mr.  Lyman, 
whose  pecuniary  losses,  heavy  as  they  promised 
to  be,  were  light  in  comparison  with  other  disas 
ters  that  now  threatened  him,  made  so  strong 
an  argument  in  favor  of  closing  the  hotel  at 
once,  that  he  carried  with  him  a  majority  of  the 
directors. 

A  week  afterwards,  Jacob  Grover  stood  in  the 
little  porch  of  his  hotel,  and  looked  across  at 
the  grand  and  imposing  rival  which  had  for  so 
many  months  stared  down  upon  the  Fountain 
Inn  with  a  kind  of  supercilious  contempt.  All 
the  shutters  were  closed.  The  great  ornamented 
door  and  all  the  smaller  doors  were  shut.  Deser 
tion  was  written  all  over  it.  Even  Jacob  Grover 
felt  the  shadow  its  desolation  cast,  and  a  feeling 
of  loss,  as  though  something  had  gone  out  of  his 
life. 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do  with  it  ?"  asked  a 
man  who  was  standing  near  Grover. 

The  tavern-keeper  merely  shrugged  his  shouL 
ders. 


THE    REACTION.  185 

"  They  say  that  Hyer  has  managed  to  feather 
his  own  nest." 

"  Ah  !" 

"  Yes ;  and  that  he's  bought  out  a  billiard 
saloon  in  New  York." 

"  What's  that  ?"  asked  Mr.  Lyman,  who  came 
up  at  the  moment.  "Were  you  speaking  of 
Hyer?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Bought  out  a  billiard  saloon  in  New  York, 
did  you  say  ?" 

"So  I  hear." 

"  Is  there  any  truth  in  it  ?" 

"  I  presume  so.    Had  it  from  Charley  Fithian." 

Mr.  Lyman  knit  his  brows  and  shut  his  mouth 
hard. 

"  They  say  that  Charley  is  going  in  with 
Hyer,  and  that  it's  a  splendid  opening." 

"  Into  the  way  that  leads  to  destruction," 
remarked  one  of  the  little  group  of  men  who 
had  drawn  together  on  Grover's  porch. 

"  His  feet  have   already  entered   that  down- 


186  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

ward  way,  I  fear,"  said  another.  "  It  is  really 
sad  to  see  the  change  a  few  months  have 
wrought  in  this  young  man.  I  shall  be  sorry 
for  him,  if  it  be  true  that  he  is  going  to  New 
York;  but  glad  for  the  young  men  of  our 
place,  for  his  influence  over  them  is  getting 
to  be  very  hurtful." 

"  There  are  two  or  three  others  whose  absence 
would  be  good  for  our  town,"  was  answered  in 
a  low  voice  and  with  a  glance  at  Roger  Lyman. 

"Yes;  his  son  is  rather  fast,  and  his  example 
and  influence  are  even  more  hurtful  than  Char 
ley  Fithian's." 

Mr.  Lyman  drew  his  arm  within  that  of  the 
person  who  had  spoken  about  Andrew  Hyer  as 
having  purchased  a  billiard  saloon  in  New  York, 
and  the  two  men  walked  away. 

"  You  had  this  from  young  Fithian  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  really  so?" 

"  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  it.  You've  thrown 
him  overboard  here ;  and  what  is  more  natural 


THE    REACTION.  187 

than  that  he  should  endeavor  to  get  a  foothold 
somewhere  else  ?" 

"  Rather  a  come  down." 

"  How  ?" 

"  From  a  great  hotel  to  a  billiard  saloon." 

"  Water  always  finds  its  level.  The  bar  and 
the  billiard  saloon  mark  the  level  of  this  man ; 
he  finds  it  the  moment  he  is  left  to  himself." 

"  Then  you  do  not  regard  him  as  competent  to 
manage  a  large  hotel  like  the  Brantly  House  ?" 

The  other  smiled  as  he  remarked, 

"  Facts  are  stubborn  things." 

"They  are,  certainly  ;  and  in  this  case  do  not 
say  much  for  Hyer's  ability.  Still,  I  had  thought 
him  capable  enough  ;  my  question  has  been  as 
to  his  integrity." 

"  Is  he  capable  ?  Is  he  honest  ?"  There  was 
a  twitching  at  the  corners  of  the  man's  mouth, 
and  a  slight  dash  of  humor  in  his  eyes. 

"  Exactly  so.  Capable,  but  not  honest,  I 
fear!" 

'•  Neither  honest  nor  capable.   A  specious  fraud ! 


188  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRAXTLY. 

A  shameless  pretender  !"  said  the  man,  in  down 
right  speech  and  emphasis.  "  I  wonder  you  did 
not  read  it  in  his  face !" 

"  Fithian  endorsed  him  so  strongly  that  I  was 
deceived." 

"  Fithian  !     Birds  of  a  feather  !" 

"  No ;  you  must  not  say  that.  Fithian  will 
look  after  his  own  interests,  and  take  care  of 
Number  One;  but  a  charge  of  dishonesty  will 
hardly  lie  against  him." 

"  No,  for  you'll  never  catch  him.  He's  too 
wary  a  fox  for  that.  But,  as  I  was  just  saying, 
6  Birds  of  a  feather' — you  know  the  rest.  He  and 
Fithian  have  been  as  thick  as  pickpockets  ;  and 
I  fancy  that  no  one  in  Brantly  knows  the  fellow's 
antecedents  better  than  he." 

"  What  are  his  antecedents  ?" 

"  I've  understood  that  he  kept  bar  in  New 
York.  And  a  guest  here  last  summer  recognised 
him  as  a  waiter  who  had  served  at  one  of  the 
Saratoga  hotels  during  the  previous  season/' 

"Are  you  sure  of  that  ?" 


THE    KEACTION.  189 

"  I'm  not  sure  of  anything.  I  only  give  you 
what  I've  heard." 

"  Where  is  Hyer  ?  I  haven't  seen  hirn  for  sev 
eral  days/' 

"  Gone  to  New  York,  I  presume,  to  take  charge 
of  his  new  business.  But,  changing  the  subject, 
Mr.  Lyman  :  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
this  elephant  ?"  Waving  a  hand  towards  the 
hotel. 

The  lawyer  made  no  response  to  the  question. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  to  do  with  it." 

A  glance  of  inquiry. 

"  Offer  it  to  the  state  for  an  insane  asylum." 
There  was  a  half-serious,  half-comic  expression 
on  the  man's  face.  "  The  choicest  rooms  could  be 
reserved  for  the  directors,"  was  added,  with  a 
twinkle  and  a  smile  that  could  not  be  kept 
back. 

"  Too  grave  a  matter  for  jest,"  returned  Mr. 
Lyman,  looking  very  serious. 

"  You  do  not  think  of  opening  it  again  ?" 

"  Under  a  new  management  something  may 


190  THE    BAH-TIOOMS    AT    BHANTLY. 

be  done.  But  I  shall  oppose  any  plan  for  run 
ning  the  hotel  ourselves.  That  was  our  great 
mistake.  We  should  have  rented  it  to  responsi 
ble  parties." 

u  If  such  are  to  be  found," 

"  There  are  responsible  people." 

"  Of  course.  How  much  has  this  whole  thing 
cost,  Mr.  Lyman?" 

"Sixty  thousand  dollars  had  been  expended 
when  the  building  was  ready  for  guests." 

"  How  much  have  you  sunk  since  that  time  ?" 

"Nearly  eight  thousand  dollars.'' 

"Besides  the  interest?" 

"Yes." 

"A  miserable  showing  on  which  to  allure 
responsible  parties  to  undertake  what,  in  your 
hands,  has  proved  so  lamentable  a  failure." 

"  It  will  be  easy  to  make  the  cause  of  failure 
clear." 

"  In  Hyer's  incompetency  or  rascality,  which 
soever  you  please  to  call  it." 

«  Yes." 


THE    REACTION.  191 

"  I  hope  you  may  succeed.  No,  I  don't,  either. 
I'd  rather  see  a  good,  wholesome  fire  take  hold 
of  the  building  than  anything  else ;  for  it  has 
cursed  our  town  from  the  beginning  and  will 
curse  it  to  the  end.  There  is  not  a  man,  or  a 
woman,  or  a  child  in  Brantly  on  whom  its  baleful 
shadow  has  not  fallen."  The  speaker  had 
become  strongly  excited.  "  You  must  pardon 
me,  Mr.  Lyman.  But  I  have  reason  to  feel 
strongly  on  this  subject.  I  am  a  father  !" 

The  man's  brow  had  darkened  sternly ;  and 
there  was  a  nervous  tremor  about  his  lips.  For 
a  little  while  the  two  men  looked  at  each  other 
in  silence. 

"  It  was  an  evil  hour  for  us,  Mr.  Lyman,  when 
you  and  Fithian  concocted  this  grand  hotel 
scheme.  Brantly  was  prosperous  and  happy. 
Scarcely  eighteen  months  have  passed  since  its 
inception;  and  how  fares  it  with  Brantly  to-day  ? 
Can  you  find  me  the  man  who  counts  himself 
better  off,  or  a  home  in  which  the  light  is  not 
dimmer  than  it  was  before  ?  In  the  last  six 


192  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

months  ten  poor  wretches  have  been  taken  from 
Brantly  to  the  county  almshouse,  and  twice  as 
many  to  the  county  jail !  Look  this  fact  steadily 
in  the  face ;  and  then  remember,  that  until  now 
neither  the  jail  nor  the  poorhouse  has  had,  in  ten 
years,  a  single  representation  from  our  town.  If 
this  be  growth,  prosperity,  advancement — taking 
step  with  the  onward  movement  of  a  progressive 
age — I  pray  God  that  the  old,  sleepy,  dead-and- 
alive  time  of  which  we  heard  so  much  a  year 
ago,  may  settle  down  again,  with  all  its  torpors 
and  sluggishness,  upon  our  people !" 

Mr.  Lyman,  who  was  looking  into  the  speaker's 
face,  noticed  that  it  changed  suddenly  ;  the  eyes 
fixing  themselves  on  something  across  the  street. 
Turning,  he  saw  two  young  men  coming  out  of 
a  saloon  which  stood  nearly  opposite.  Their  move 
ments  were  quick  and  excited,  and  it  became  in 
stantly  apparent  that  they  had  quarrelled.  One 
was  threatening  the  other — drawing  back  his 
clenched  fist  as  if  about  to  strike. 

"  More  of  this  accursed  fruit !"  exclaimed  the 


THE    REACTION.  193 

man,  as  he  started  across  the  street.  He  was  in 
time  to  catch  the  uplifted  hand  and  prevent  a 
blow  that  would  have  disfigured  the  face  of  his 
own  boy,  a  stripling  scarcely  nineteen,  who  had 
been  drinking  so  freely  that  he  was  in  no  condi 
tion  to  defend  himself.  The  unhappy  father  took 
his  son  by  the  arm  and  led  him  away,  his  manly 
form  bent  a  little  forward  as  if  a  heavy  weight 
were  on  his  shoulders. 

"  Is  that  Overman's  son  ?"  asked  a  neighbor, 
addressing  Mr.  Lyman,  who  was  standing  as 
one  half  dazed,  his  eyes  following  the  man  who 
had  just  left  him. 

"I  think  so." 

"  Sorry  work  for  Brantly  !" 

No  reply. 

"Who's  the  other?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Oh  !  I  see.    It's  Grubb's  son ;  Philip  Grubb ! 
And  he  such  a  good-hearted,  peaceable  fellow  ! 
Ah !  drink,  drink !     Isn't  it   a   dreadful   thing, 
Mr.  Lyman  ?" 
13 


194  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

But  the  lawyer  was  dumb. 

"  If  this  thing  isn't  stopped,  the  whole  town 
will  go  to  rack  and  ruin.  Instead  of  that  rail 
road  to  the  metropolis,  and  I  don't  know  where 
else,  that  we've  heard  so  much  about,  we  shall 
have  a  fast  line  to  the  city  of  Destruction.  It's 
about  time  that  we  called  a  halt,  sir  !" 

"  That's  easier  said  than  done,"  remarked  a 
townsman  who  had  joined  them.  "  To  open  a 
crevasse  is  one  thing,  and  to  stop  it,  after  the 
rush  of  waters  has  commenced,  is  quite  another." 

"  For  all  that,  the  crevasse  must  be  stopped," 
was  the  emphatic  answer. 

66  Who's  hand  is  strong  enough  ?" 

"  All  of  our  hands  must  be  set  to  the  work. 
We  are  in  the  face  of  a  common  danger.  Sor 
row  and  suffering  and,  it  may  be,  death,  are 
rising  against  every  man's  door-stone,  and  none 
can  tell  how  soon  the  flood  may  sweep  over." 

"  There  will  be  hands  as  ready  to  break  as  to 
mend." 

«  Who's  hands  ?" 


THE    REACTION. 


195 


"  There  are  those  who  make  gain  out  of  the 
common  loss.  Have  you  never  heard  of  them  ? 
Look  !  As  we  stand  here  we  can  count  one, 
two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven  drinking-places ; 
and  you  may  find  twice  as  many  more,  if  you 
care  to  seek  for  them." 

"  They  must  be  closed." 

"How  will  you  close  them?  Their  right 
to  be  open  is  as  clearly  guaranteed  by  law 
as  the  right  of  the  baker  shop  and  the  pro 
vision  store." 

"  Public  sentiment  will  do  it." 

"  Public  sentiment  may  restrain  this  evil ; 
but  the  instance  is  hardly  on  record  where 
it  was  strong  enough  to  extirpate  it  after  the 
vigorous  roots  had  struck  themselves  fairly  into 
the  ground.  Only  the  law  is  potent  enough ; 
but,  unhappily,  the  law  is  on  the  side  of  the 
debasing  dram-seller,  and  not  against  him." 

"I  cannot  take  your  disheartening  view. 
There  is  a  power  in  the  will  of  a  whole  com- 


196  THE    BAK-KOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

munity  that  must  be  felt.  Let  us  have  the  will, 
and  the  work  is  done." 

"  Of  the  whole  community  ?" 

"  Yes." 

*•'  Something  that  you  cannot  have." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Did  you  never  hear  of  a  divided  will  ?  Re 
member  that  our  Brantly  of  to-day  has  a  will  of 
evil  as  well  as  a  will  of  good.  It  is  a  house 
divided  against  itself.  It  has  tasted  of  forbidden 
fruit,  the  subtle  juices  of  which  have  carried 
fever-heats  through  its  blood,  bewildered  its 
brain,  and  bent  its  life  away  from  health  and 
order.  We  have  men  among  us  who,  for  gain, 
would  rob  or  steal  or  murder,  but  for  the 
restraints  of  law.  The  state  has  legalized  a 
traffic  which  is  based  on  the  indulgence  of  an 
appetite  that  grows  with  its  indulgence — stead 
ily  weakening  the  moral  sense  and  lowering  the 
physical  health  —  an  appetite  that  is  ever  a 
curser  and  a  destroyer.  No  good  citizen — no  one 
who  regards  his  neighbor's  well-being — no  man 


THE    REACTION.  197 

but  he  who  cares  not  who  loses  so  that  he  gains, 
who  dies  in  poverty  and  wretchedness  so  that  he 
lives  and  prospers,  can  or  will  accept  the  state's 
license  to  make  paupers  and  criminals,  and  to 
scatter  sorrow,  disease,  suffering  and  death  among 
the  people.  What  influence  do  you  think  public 
sentiment  is  going  to  have  on  these  men  ?  None 
whatever!  They  will  laugh  at  the  soft  touch 
of  your  hand  and  mine.  It  is  only  the  iron 
hand  of  the  law  of  which  they  are  afraid ;  arid 
in  that  they  see  no  menace.  It  is  their  friend 
and  their  protector.  The  will  of  this  commu 
nity,  as  I  have  just  said,  is  a  divided  will.  The 
people  have  been  robbed  of  their  strength." 

"Not  all  of  them.  There  are  stout  hearts 
and  strong  hands  left.  The  doors  of  our  citadel 
were  left  open,  and  an  enemy  rushed  in.  He 
has  bound  some,  and  wounded  others,  and  slain  a 
few.  But  the  days  of  weakness  and  submission 
are  over.  There  is  an  arming  for  battle  and  a 
gathering  of  forces.  He  will  be  driven  out !" 

"  We  shall  see,"  was  the  incredulous  answer. 


THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LOSS   AND    GAIN. 

PT  was  a  delusive  dream  into  which  Brantly 
had  fallen.  For  a  time  all  the  movements 
of  this  dream  were  easy  and  all  its  fancies  pleas 
ant.  But,  as  often  happens  in  dreams,  there 
came  a  sudden  change.  Beauty  faded;  skies 
grew  dark  and  threatening;  shapes  of  fairy  love 
liness  were  all  at  once  transformed  into  wild 
beasts,  serpents  or  demons.  Struck  with  a  sense 
of  terror,  she  made  an  effort  to  turn  and  flee  ; 
when,  lo !  a  leaden  torpor  held  her  fast.  Her 
limbs  were  heavy.  A  dreadful  weight,  that 
seemed  crushing  out  her  very  life,  was  lying  on 
her  panting  chest.  A  palsying  nightmare  had 
seized  her.  It  was  in  vain  that  she  struggled  to 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.  199 

free  herself.  The  power  of  the  demon  was  not 
to  be  easily  broken. 

All  at  once,  as  if  there  had  flowed  into  the 
common  thought  a  perception  of  danger,  the 
people  of  Brantly  took  the  alarm ;  and  then  the 
struggle  began.  Day  by  day  the  necessity  for 
this  struggle  grew  more  and  more  apparent. 
Reasons  multiplied  themselves  with  a  painful 
and  often  a  startling  rapidity.  Until  the  people 
opened  their  eyes  and  looked  fairly  over  the 
ground,  scarcely  any  of  them  knew  how  widely 
the  plague  of  intemperance  had  spread,  nor  to 
what  fatal  results  its  course,  in  too  many  sad 
instances,  was  already  running.  Nor  was  it 
confined  to  the  town  proper  alone.  The  terrible 
disease  was  in  the  atmosphere  that  drifted  cir 
cling  away,  and  for  miles  and  miles  around  were 
seen  its  victims.  Brantly  had  become  a  pest- 
house  ;  and  there  was  none  to  order  its  isolation. 

The  closing  of  the  new  hotel,  and  the  unset 
tled  question  as  to  the  future  course  of  the 
directors,  gave  occasion  for  the  free  discussion  of 


200         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

affairs  that  immediately  followed,  and  for  bringing 
clearly  into  view  the  loss  and  gain  to  the  people 
of  Brantly  which  had  come  as  a  result  of  the 
great  scheme.  There  were  two  parties  to  this 
discussion,  of  course,  and  they  stood  bitterly  and 
resolutely  antagonized.  The  party  in  favor  of 
every  man's  liberty  to  pursue  whatever  calling 
best  served  his  own  interests,  so  that  he  did  not 
infringe  a  law  of  the  state,  was  in  a  strongly 
contrasting  minority ;  but  it  was  resolute,  and 
safely  entrenched  behind  its  bulwark  of  legal 
privilege.  The  most  prominent  man  in  this 
party  was  Dennis  Fithian.  For  a  while  Mr. 
Lyman  hesitated  about  giving  the  weight  of  his 
influence  to  either  side.  In  the  board  of  hotel 
directors  he  was  in  opposition  to  all  plans  for 
re-opening  the  Brantly  House  that  made  stock 
holders  in  any  way  responsible  for  losses  in  the 
management.  But  when  a  man  came  up  from 
New  York  and  offered  to  take  the  house  for  the 
summer  at  a  rent  of  three  thousand  dollars,  he 
gave  a  half-constrained  acquiescence,  but  insisted 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.      .  201 

that  adequate  security  for  the  rent  must  be  had. 
He  wanted  no  risks  nor  contingencies.  Whether 
the  season  were  profitable  or  not,  the  company 
must  have  its  rent.  There  had  been  losses  and 
disappointments  enough  already.  To  this  he 
was  able  to  hold  a  majority  of  the  directors. 
The  security  not  proving  satisfactory  to  Mr. 
Lyman,  his  correspondent  in  New  York  making 
an  unfavorable  report  on  the  parties  offered  as 
bondsmen,  he  was  able  to  carry  a  vote  against 
the  proposed  lessee.  Fithian  had  strongly  advo 
cated  the  other  side,  and  after  the  vote  was 
taken  lost  his  temper  and  uttered  many  offensive 
things.  Warming  in  his  indignation,  he  turned 
to  the  lawyer  and  said,  in  half-bravado, 

"  Will  you  take  me  as  security  ?" 

"  Yes ;  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  But  I  can 
not  speak  for  the  others.  Do  you  agree  to  sign 
the  bond  ?" 

Fithian's  manner  changed.  The  anger  went 
out  of  his  face,  and  he  had  the  air  of  one  who 
felt  himself  baffled  in  a  purpose.  He  dropped 


202  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

his  eyes  to  the  floor  and  sat  thinking  for  a  few 
moments. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do,"  he  said,  looking 
up. 

"-What?" 

"  Take  the  lease  myself." 

"  You !"  The  word  came  in  surprise  from 
more  lips  than  one. 

"  I  have  not  lost  faith  in  the  Brantly  House. 
The  result  of  last  season  was  no  fair  test.  There 
is  money  in  it  for  somebody ;  and  as  you  are  not 
disposed  to  get  it  out  yourselves,  I'll  try  my 
hand  at  the  business.  So,  make  out  the  lease ; 
and  if  you  want  security,  it  shall  be  forth 
coming." 

"  But  you  are  not  really  in  earnest  ?"  said  one 
and  another. 

"  Entirely  so." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  keeping  a  hotel  ?" 

"  I  know  that  two  and  two  make  four ;  and 
also  that,  if  you  take  eight  from  ten,  two  remain. 
The  trouble  with  our  late  manager  was,  that  he 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.  203 

tried  to  take  ten  from  eight,  and  the  sum  didn't 
come  out  right.  You  understand  ?" 

"  You'll  make  a  great  mistake/'  said  Mr. 
Lyman. 

"  It  will  be  my  own  loss.  The  only  question 
you  have  to  decide  is,  whether  I  can  have  the 
lease  or  not." 

"  There  will  be  scarcely  an  objection,  I  pre 


sume." 


And  there  was  none.  Three  thousand  dollars 
would  be  something  to  the  weary,  waiting  and, 
in  more  than  one  instance,  embarrassed  stock 
holders.  It  would  come  as  a  check  to  the  tide 
which  had  been  steadily  running  out  for  so  long 
and  long  a  time.  There  would  be  slack  water — 
a  little  turning  back,  and  then  ? — might  not  the 
waters  rise  higher  and  higher,  and  the  harvest- 
moon  of  their  hopes  give  the  long-waited-for  flood- 
tide  of  prosperity  ?  Some  took  heart  again  ;  but 
Mr.  Lyman  was  not  one  of  these.  From  before 
his  eyes  the  vain  illusions  and  self-deceptions 
from  which  he  had  been  so  long  acting  were 


204  THE    BAR-BOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

passing  away,  and  his  clearer  vision  saw  little  to 
inspire  either  hope  or  confidence.  He  had  over 
twenty  thousand  dollars  locked  up  in  this  showy 
and  not  very  substantial  pile  of  unfinished  build 
ings,  the  very  sight  of  which  was  now  an  annoy 
ance,  if  not  an  offence.  Safe  investments,  which 
had  long  paid  him  from  seven  to  eight  per  cent, 
a  year,  had  been  changed  into  Brantly  House 
stock.  On  this,  instalment  after  instalment  had 
been  called,  but  no  dividend  declared;  and  for 
all  the  lease  to  Fithian,  he  saw  little  prospect  of 
any  dividend  in  the  future.  In  fact,  he  had  lost 
faith  in  Fithian  ;  but  whether  as  to  his  judgment 
or  his  integrity  was  not  a  clearly  settled  thing. 

If  the  pecuniary  loss  had  been  all  that  con 
cerned  Roger  Lyman,  he  might  have  seen  a  way 
out  of  his  trouble.  Bat  his  mistake  had  wrought 
a  far  deeper  mischief  and  threatened  a  more 
ruinous  disaster.  His  own  son  had  been  caught 
in  the  flood  that  was  sweeping  through  the  town, 
and  he  saw  him  slowly  borne  away  on  its  dark 
and  treacherous  waters.  What  was  the  gain  or 


LOSS   AND    GAIN.  205 

loss  of  money  to  this  !  He  had  not  stopped  to 
consider  his  neighbor's  weal  or  woe  when  he  threw 
the  weight  of  his  influence  on  the  side  of  bar 
rooms  and  drinking-houses,  and  in  favor  of  lift 
ing  quiet,  contented  Brantly  out  of  the  safe  and 
prosperous  way  in  which  she  had  been  going  for  so 
many  years.  Back  of  all  the  specious  arguments, 
the  glowing  statements  and  confident  prophesies 
with  which  he  had  excited  the  people  and  drawn 
them  over  to  his  side,  was  the  end  that  influ 
enced  him.  It  was  not  his  neighbor's  good,  but 
his  own  that  lay  nearest  his  heart.  Not  Brant 
ly 's  prosperity,  but  Roger  Lyman's.  A  grand 
hotel,  and  the  customs  and  vices  of  social  life  in 
great  cities,  would  attract  hundreds  to  the  town 
during  the  summer  time — so  he  reasoned.  New 
elements  would  come  in  ;  new  blood  flow  into  the 
veins  of  the  people  ;  a  new  era  of  prosperity 
would  dawn.  Besides  large  yearly  dividends  on 
the  hotel  investment,  increased  demands  for  pro 
fessional  service  would  swell  the  lawyer's  in 
come,  and  give  him  an  influence,  power  and 


206         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

prestige  far  beyond  anything  possible  under  the 
old  order  of  things.  All  benefits  to  himself  were 
magnified ;  all  loss  or  injury  to  his  neighbor  made 
of  little  or  no  account.  What  had  he  to  do  with 
his  neighbor's  welfare !  Let  his  neighbor  take 
care  of  that.  Because  there  were  fine  hotels  and 
beer-gardens  and  drinking-houses  all  over  the 
land,  were  the  whole  people  besotted  and  going 
to  destruction?  It  was  a  libel  on  humanity. 
And,  moreover,  it  was  a  poor  compliment 
to  Brantly  to  say  that  she  was  not  able  to 
control  herself  and  let  her  moderation  be 
seen  of  all  the  world.  He  would  be  sponsor  for 
Brantly. 

But  all  of  Mr.  Ly  man's  fine  enthusiasm,  so 
much  of  which  had  gone  in  this  direction,  was 
dying  out.  He  had  reached  a  new  standpoint, 
from  which  everything  was  seen  in  a  new  posi 
tion.  Nothing  had  come  out  according  to  his 
forecast.  His  sagacity  had  failed  him  ;  and  he 
saw  that  the  failure  was  a  most  miserable  one — 
chiefly  in  this,  that  upon  his  own  heart  and  home 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.  207 

was  fulling  the  curse  he  had  not  cared  to  hold 
back  from  his  neighbor's  heart  and  home. 

If  the  plague  had  not  smitten  his  own  house 
hold,  it  is  doubtful  whether  Roger  Lyman  would 
have  gone  back  upon  his  record.  But  this  fact 
left  him  without  excuse.  For  a  while  he  hesi 
tated.  Mr.  Norman  tried,  but  vainly,  to  draw  him 
into  the  ranks  of  those  who  by  effort,  by  speech 
and  by  example,  set  themselves  to  the  work  of  re 
stricting,  breaking  down,  and  finally  extirpating 
the  evil  of  intemperance.  An  occurrence,  the 
pain  and  humiliation  of  which  were  felt  for  years 
afterward,  settled  whatever  debate  had  been 
going  on  in  his  mind. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  effort  made  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lyman  to  break  off  the  engagement  between 
their  daughter  and  Frank  Sylvester,  had  failed 
of  its  purpose.  Their  opposition,  based  on  the 
young  man's  danger,  not  only  tended  to  increase 
the  girl's  devotion  to  her  lover,  but  inspired  her 
with  a  sentiment  of  self-sacrificing  heroism. 
With  unusual  strength  of  will,  she  had  a  warm 


208  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

imagination,  and  great  confidence  in  her  power 
over  Frank,  who  had  a  weaker  nature  than  hers. 
Where  others  saw  in  this  very  weakness  his 
greatest  danger,  she  saw  in  it  the  element  by 
which  she  felt  confident  of  being  able  to  influ 
ence  and  save  him. 

Mr.  Fithian  did  not  recede  from  his  suddenly- 
formed  determination  to  lease  the  new  hotel. 
That  he  was  in  earnest  about  the  matter  became 
apparent  in  the  work  of  renovating  and  setting 
in  order  which  soon  began.  He  was  not  com 
municative  about  his  plans ;  but  it  gradually 
came  out  that  he  had  engaged  the  services  of  a 
man  experienced  in  hotel-keeping,  to  whom  the 
business  of  catering  and  managing  the  internal 
affairs  of  the  establishment  were  to  be  committed. 
He  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  finances. 
These  were  to  be  in  his  own  hands.  His  son 
Charley  would  take  the  position  of  cashier,  and 
as  all  money  must  pass  through  him,  Mr.  Fithi 
an  felt  that,  under  this  arrangement,  he  would 
be  secure  from  loss  by  peculation. 


LOSS   AND    GAIN.  209 

People  shook  their  heads  doubtfully,  or  prophe 
sied  success,  when  all  this  became  known,  accord 
ing  to  their  various  feelings  and  sentiments.  But 
there  was  a  pretty  general  agreement  in  one 
opinion,  and  this  was,  that  Mr.  Fithian  would 
run  a  great  risk  if  he  placed  his  son,  still  little 
more  than  a  boy,  in  so  responsible  a  position,  and 
one  in  which  he  would  be  exposed  to  so  many 
temptations.  "  It  will  be  his  ruin,"  said  one  and 
another ;  and  there  were  few  to  question  the 
prediction. 

As  summer  drew  near,  the  stir  of  preparation 
for  re-opening  the  hotel  began.  Advertisements 
were  sent  to  the  papers  in  most  of  the  large  sea 
board  towns,  wherein  the  Brantly  House  and  the 
attractive  region  in  which  it  was  located  were 
described  in  glowing  terms.  Particular  stress 
was  laid  on  the  modern  style  and  modern  im 
provements  appertaining  to  the  new  hotel.  The 
table  was  to  be  furnished  with  all  the  luxuries 
and  delicacies  of  the  season,  and  the  cellars  with 

the  choicest  wines  and  liquors. 
14 


210  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

By  the  1st  of  July  over  half  the  rooms  were 
taken,  and  guests  began  to  arrive.  The  most 
self-important  man  in  town,  and  the  one  who 
held  his  head  the  highest,  was  Dennis  Fithian, 
who  gave  two  hours  of  his  time  to  his  new 
enterprise,  where  one  was  devoted  to  his  regular 
business  —  a  fact  not  at  all  pleasing  to  Mr. 
Grubb,  who  was  growing  more  and  more  dissat 
isfied  with  his  partner  every  day.  For  some 
time  their  relations  had  not  been  of  the  most 
agreeable  character,  and  the  expediency  of  a  dis 
solution  had  more  than  once  been  thought  of  by 
both  of  them. 

At  the  first  rising  flow  in  the  tide  of  business, 
men  are  apt  to  grow  confident,  and  to  see  the 
coming  of  large  success.  A  favorable  look  in 
affairs,  where  a  pet  scheme  is  concerned,  has 
turned  many  a  man's  head,  and  betrayed  him  to 
his  ruin.  As  letter  after  letter  came  in  answer 
to  his  advertisements,  and  room  after  room  was 
engaged,  Mr.  Fithian's  confidence  in  the  hotel 
business  grew  larger,  and  his  faith  in  himself 


LOSS   AND    GAIN.  211 

stronger.  Here  was,  at  last,  a  man  who  knew 
something  at  the  head  of  affairs ;  not  a  set  of 
timid  old  fogies  who  were  afraid  of  their  shadows. 
He  had  always  believed  in  this  hotel  project,  and 
now  that  he  had  a  clear  field  before  him,  would 
show  Brantly  and  the  world  what  enterprise 
could  do. 

How  largely  did  this  man  carry  himself  as 
guests  began  to  arrive  freely,  and  the  halls  and 
porches  of  the  great  hotel  became  alive  with 
gayly-dressed  ladies !  His  self-importance  in 
creased  until  it  was  an  offence  to  many.  But 
there  is  no  unmixed  good.  Into  his  confidence 
for  the  future  crept  an  annoying  regret.  He  had 
made  a  great  mistake  in  his  lease.  It  should 
have  been  for  a  year,  or,  better,  for  five  years, 
instead  of  for  only  a  few  months.  His  successful 
season  would  give  the  stockholders  a  true  idea 
of  the  value  of  their  property,  and  prevent  him 
from  obtaining  a  renewal  of  his  lease  except  at 
greatly-advanced  figures.  The  more  he  thought 
of  this,  the  more  it  worried  him.  It  was  in  his 


212  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

mind  night  and  day.  What  a  fool  he  had  been  ! 
How  to  rectify  this  error  became  his  absorbing 
idea.  If  he  asked  to  have  the  lease  extended 
now,  when  every  one  saw  the  tide  of  success 
flowing  in,  it  would  be  equivalent  to  a  notifica 
tion  to  advance  the  rent  to  figures  that  would 
seriously  reduce  in  value  the  rich  harvest  he  saw 
ripening  before  him. 

"  "Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  some  more  of  the 
stock  ?"  asked  Mr.  Lyman,  one  day.  "  I'll  sell 
out  at  a  bargain." 

Fithian  had  been  talking  to  him  rather  more 
freely  than  usual  about  his  hotel  enterprise. 
His  anxiety  in  regard  to  the  renewal  of  his  lease 
had  made  him  more  circumspect  of  late. 

"  Will  you  ?"  There  was  an  effort  on  the  part 
of  Fithian  to  seem  indifferent. 

"  Yes.     Do  you  wish  to  buy  ?" 

Fithian  drew  his  coarse  lips  hard  together, 
looked  a  resolute  "  No,"  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  didn't  know.  You  seem  so  confident  about 
making  things  pay." 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.  213 

"  Under  proper  management,  I  think,  as  I 
have  always  thought,  that  a  fair  business  can  be 
done.  If  my  hands  were  entirely  free  from  other 
business,  I  wouldn't  hesitate,  provided  I  could 
secure  a  lease  on  moderately  good  terms,  to 
undertake  it  myself." 

"  Why  not  buy  up  the  stock,  and  get  the 
whole  thing  into  your  own  hands  ?  I'll  sell  out 
cheap." 

"  How  cheap  ?" 

"  What  will  you  give  ?" 

"  Twenty-five  dollars  a  share." 

«  No." 

«  Thirty." 

"No." 

"  All  right.  Don't  care  to  pay  even  that.  I 
only  bid  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  had 
just  as  lief  you  wouldn't  take  me  up." 

But  the  ice  was  broken,  and  the  men  under 
stood  each  other.  One  was  ready  to  sell  and 
the  other  to  buy,  if  only  a  price  could  be  agreed 
upon.  Before  the  end  of  a  week  this  was  settled, 


214         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

and  the  stock  which  had  cost  Roger  Lyman 
twenty  thousand  dollars  was  transferred  to 
Dennis  Fithian,  and  in  lieu  thereof  he  held  the 
latter's  note  of  hand,  secured  by  mortgage  on 
real  estate,  for  the  sum  of  seven  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars. 

As  Mr.  Lyman  thus  washed  his  hands  clean 
of  this  whole  disastrous  business,  he  drew  a 
deep  sigh  of  relief.  Clear  of  it  all,  did  we  say  ? 
Alas,  no  !  That  was,  in  fact,  impossible.  The 
wrong  we  do,  can  never  be  wholly  repaired  ;  the 
evils  we  draw  upon  ourselves,  through  crime  or 
folly,  can  never  be  wholly  removed.  Modified, 
mitigated,  atoned  for  they  may  be,  but  in  some 
form  their  effect  will  remain,  and  cast  a  shadow, 
faint  or  sombre,  over  the  brightest  sunshine  that 
in  after  years  throws  its  pleasant  warmth  and 
golden  beauty  across  our  way. 

There  were  other  stockholders  quite  as  ready 
to  sell  as  Mr.  Lyman;  and  Fithian  was,  ere 
long,  the  owner  of  more  than  eighty  per  cent, 
of  the  shares,  which  gave  him  as  much  control 


LOSS    AND    GAIN.  215 

as  he  desired.  But,  outside  of  his  interest  in 
the  canning  establishment  of  Grubb  &  Fithian, 
he  had  no  property  that  could  be  made  available 
for  these  additional  purchases,  and  so,  in  order 
to  make  them,  he  sold  out  this  interest;  giving 
up  a  sure  profit  for  the  uncertain  gains  of  a  busi 
ness  about  which  he  knew  nothing,  and  on  which 
failure  had  been  written  from  the  day  of  its 
inception. 

Brantly  lifted  herself  once  more,  and  looked 
bright  and  hopeful,  as  the  influx  of  strangers 
set  in  and  business  began  to  move  a  little,  and 
money  to  find  its  way  more  freely  than  for  many 
months  past  into  the  hands  of  the  people.  After 
all,  was  not  this  hotel  enterprise  a  good  thing? 
What  would  poor  Brantly  have  done  this  summer 
without  it  ? 

Dennis  Fithian  was  the  man  of  mark  now. 
How  loftily  he  carried  himself!  He  was  taller 
and  larger  than  before,  unless  people's  eyes  were 
deceived.  Cigar-shops  and  drinking-saloons  be 
gan  to  increase  again ;  and  the  young  men  of 


216  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

the  town,  with  many  of  whom  Mr.  Norman  had 
revived  his  old  influence,  began  drifting  away 
from  the  safe  places  into  which  they  had  been 
drawn  through  the  increase  of  a  better  public 
sentiment. 

By  the  first  or  second  week  in  August  the  tide 
was  at  its  full  flood.  More  than  a  hundred 
guests  had  registered  their  names  at  the  hotel. 
Among  these  were  a  few  notables,  of  both  sexes  ; 
men  and  women  who,  in  art,  literature,  politics, 
religion,  trade  or  finance,  had  lifted  themselves 
above  the  common  level  and  found  public  recog 
nition.  This  was  quite  a  feather  in  the  cap  of 
Brantly ;  and  her  best  people,  of  whom  Mr. 
Lyman  was  the  leading  representative,  made  it 
their  business  to  show  distinguished  attentions 
to  these  eminent  personages,  some  of  whom  were 
in  no  way  disinclined  to  accept  them.  To  dine 
at  the  hotel  with  one  and  another  of  these  was  an 
often  accepted  courtesy  on  his  part,  and  he  as 
frequently  entertained  at  his  own  house  in 
return. 


LOSS   AND    GAIN.  217 

"When  Mr.  Lyman  sold  his  stock  in  the  hotel 
company,  and  turned  his  back,  under  a  bitter 
sense  of  loss  and  humiliation,  on  the  whole  order 
of  things  which  he  had  done  so  much  to  create, 
it  was  with  the  determination  to  join  hands  with 
Mr.  Norman  in  an  uncompromising  warfare 
against  the  evils  it  had  wrought  in  the  commu 
nity.  To  banish  from  his  table  and  his  house 
all  that  could  intoxicate,  was  among  the  first 
results  of  this  determination.  Personal  absti 
nence  came  next.  But  the  aggressive  attitude 
was  delayed.  He  was  not  yet  quite  ready  for 
this.  He  must  have  time  for  consideration; 
must  look  over  the  whole  ground,  and  take  no 
step  that  he  might  hereafter  be  compelled  to 
retrace.  Interest,  reputation,  consistency,  the 
good  opinion  of  his  neighbors — all  these  had  to 
be  considered.  How  would  Roger  Lyman  be 
affected  should  he  become  a  leading  man  in  this 
reform  ?  Not,  how  much  good  would  come  to 
the  people?  It  was  himself,  not  his  neighbor, 
who  must  be  considered. 


218  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

So  he  hesitated  about  committing  himself  to 
the  movement  which  was  taking  form  and  force 
under  the  leadership  of  Mr.  Norman  ;  content 
to  speak  well  of  it  and  to  refrain  from  putting 
any  impediments  in  its  way. 

The  opening  of  the  season  at  the  hotel  found 
him  in  this  half-hearted  attitude.  All  that  he 
had  yet  done  was  in  a  quiet,  unostentatious, 
non-committal  way.  But  now  came  the  trial 
that  was  to  prove  him.  An  eminent  lawyer 
named  Dalton  had  come  up  with  his  family  from 
New  York  to  spend  the  summer.  Soon  after  it 
became  known  that  he  was  at  the  hotel,  Mr. 
Lyman  called  on  him,  and  the  two  men  took  a 
fancy  to  each  other.  An  invitation  to  dine  at 
the  hotel  was  accepted.  Mr.  Dalton  had  his 
wine,  and  Mr.  Lyman  was  not  strong  enough  to 
refuse  when  his  glass  was  filled.  To  return  the 
compliment  of  a  dinner  was  a  matter  of  course ; 
and  wine  also  a  matter  of  course.  Mr.  Lyman 
drank  with  his  guest ;  and  his  son,  and  also  his 


LOSS   AND    GAIN.  219 

son-in-law  soon  to  be,  and  others  who  sat  with 
them  at  the  table,  drank  also. 

This  was  only  the  beginning.  Mr.  Dalton 
introduced  Mr.  Lyra  an  to  various  prominent 
personages  who  were  at  the  hotel,  and  a  series 
of  reciprocal  dinings  and  winings  followed, 
greatly  to  the  demoralization  of  life  and  senti 
ment  both  with  Mr.  Lyman  and  those  who  felt 
the  more  immediate  influence  of  his  example. 
There  were  many  pleasant  and  cultivated  people 
at  the  hotel,  and  some  whose  society  was  much 
enjoyed  by  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  was  herself  a  woman 
of  fine  culture. 

The  marriage  of  their  daughter  with  Frank 
Sylvester  was  to  take  place  early  in  September. 
The  parents,  seeing  the  utter  uselessness  of  oppo 
sition,  had  given  a  reluctant  consent,  and  active 
preparations  for  the  event  were  going  on  as  the 
summer  drew  to  a  close.  Invitations  to  the 
wedding  had  been  extended  to  a  number  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Lyman's  new  friends,  some  of  whom 
expected  to  remain  at  the  hotel  during  the  month 


220  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

of  September.  Others  promised  to  come  up  from 
the  city  to  grace  the  occasion  by  their  presence. 
As  the  time  drew  near,  the  heart  of  Mrs. 
Lyman  became  heavier  instead  of  lighter.  For 
awhile,  after  the  sorrowful  scene  we  have  de 
scribed,  young  Sylvester  abstained  from  all  in 
toxicating  drinks.  Marie  was  very  watchful 
over  him,  and  did  all  in  her  power  to  strengthen 
his  good  purpose.  But  after  the  new  season  at 
the  hotel  began,  and  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  several  young  men  from  the  city,  temptation 
became  too  strong.  And  when  Mr.  Lyman  him 
self,  at  his  own  table,  sent  the  bottle  around,  he 
cast  denial  aside,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion 
filled  his  glass  so  often  that  his  flushed  face  and 
thickening  speech  told,  alas,  too  plainly  of  excess. 
No  wonder  that  Mrs.  Lyman's  heart  grew  heavier 
instead  of  lighter,  as  Marie's  wedding-day  came 
nearer  and  nearer. 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  221 


CHAPTER  XL 

MARIE'S  WEDDING. 

TUST  a  week,  and  then  the  wedding-day. 
Let  us  look  in  upon  the  Lymans,  and  see 
how  it  is  with  them  as  the  coming  event  ap 
proaches.  It  had  been  the  mother's  wish  to 
have  as  little  eclat  as  possible  ;  but  the  more 
ambitious  father  saw  in  the  occasion  an  oppor 
tunity  for  display ;  and  the  weaker  side  of  his 
character  led  him  into  doing  what  neither  his 
good  sense  nor  his  good  judgment  really  approved. 
His  daughter's  marriage  was  not  an  event  to  be 
passed  over  as  if  it  were  an  ordinary  occurrence. 
It  must  be  made  an  occasion  of  rejoicing,  as 
befitted  so  important  a  ceremonial.  There  must 
be  a  feast ;  some  fashionable  display ;  110  little 


222         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

pretension  and  show.  And  for  what  ?  If  there 
had  been  no  new  friends  from  one  or  two  of  the 
great  centres  of  ostentatious  social  life,  Mr. 
Lyman  would  have  felt  differently.  It  was  not 
so  much  in  honor  of  the  occasion ;  not  so  much 
to  impress  Brantly,  that  he  decided  to  give  his 
daughter  a  brilliant  wedding ;  but  that  he  might 
dazzle,  so  to  speak,  his  city  friends  with  an  en 
tertainment  as  notable  for  its  pretension  and  dis 
play  as  for  its  lack  of  fitness  and  good  taste. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mrs.  Lyman  opposed  all 
this.  Her  husband  had  set  his  heart  on  it,  and 
would  have  his  way.  In  order  that  everything 
might  be  done  in  the  most  approved  style,  he 
had  engaged  the  services  of  the  head  waiter  at 
the  hotel,  and  given  him  instructions  to  provide 
an  entertainment  for  not  less  than  a  hundred 
guests,  and  to  do  it  on  a  liberal  scale.  Wine 
of  course ;  of  the  choicest  brands  and  in  ample 
quantity. 

"  Don't  do  it,  Koger,"  Mrs.  Lyman  said,  with 
a  husky  choking  in  her  voice,  as  she  held  up  a 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  223 

wine  list  which  had  been  marked  by  the  head 
waiter. 

"  Don't  have  wine  !"  answered  her  husband, 
surprise  and  impatience  mingling  in  his  voice. 
"  We  might  as  well  give  up  the  entertainment 
altogether." 

"  It  would  be  better  than  to  have  all  this." 
And  Mrs.  Lyman  put  her  finger  here  and  there 
upon  the  slip  of  paper,  whereon  baskets  of  Yellow 
Seal,  Pale  Sherry,  Amontillado,  Piper  Heidsieck, 
Veuve  Clicquot,  Mumrn's  Dry  Verzenay  and  Ro- 
derer's  Carte  Blanche  were  set  down  to  be  or 
dered. 

"Don't  be  foolish,  dear.  There  is  only  one 
way  to  do  this  thing.  Remember,  that  it  is  our 
daughter's  wedding." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  my  forgetting  that," 
answered  Mrs.  Lyman,  the  misery  not  dying  out 
of  her  tones. 

"If  I  could  help  it.  But  I  cannot.  We've 
invited  all  these  people  from  the  city ;  and  to 
have  a  wedding-feast  and  no  wine  would  be  to 


224  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

make  ourselves  ridiculous.  They  would  feel  it 
as  something  akin  to  an  insult." 

"I  do  not  think  so." 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  But  there  is  no  use  in 
talking  now.  Things  have  gone  too  far.  The 
invitations  are  out,  and  cannot  be  recalled." 

With  this  Mr.  Lyman  closed  the  discussion; 
and  his  wife,  knowing  how  fruitless  would  be 
all  opposition,  gave  herself  up  to  the  work  of 
preparation  with  as  much  external  cheerfulness 
as  it  was  possible  for  her  to  assume.  Marie,  as 
all  who  observed  her  closely  could  see,  was  not 
approaching  the  altar  with  a  glad,  free  step. 
Not  that  there  was  any  evidence  of  change  or 
repentance ;  for  nothing  of  that  was  in  her 
heart.  She  was  looking  forward  with  desire  to 
her  wedding-day ;  for  after  that  she  hoped  to 
obtain  a  better  influence  over  Frank,  so  that  she 
might  hold  him  away  from  the  sphere  of  temp 
tation  which,  all  through  the  summer,  had  been 
steadily  breaking  down  his  self-control.  There 
had  been  too  much  pleasant  company,  and  too 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  225 

much  dissipation  at  the  hotel ;  too  many  suppers 
and  drinking  parties  among  the  fast  young  men 
from  New  York  who  were  spending  a  few  weeks 
in  the  country  for  health  and  recreation.  Ah ! 
how  many  times  had  the  maiden's  heart  grown 
faint  and  afraid,  as  she  met  her  lover,  and  saw 
"by  indications  which  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
mistake,  that  he  had  been  tarrying  too  long  at 
the  wine  !  But  she  held  to  her  faith,  that  when 
she  became  his  wife  she  would  be  able  to  lead 
him  back  into  safe  ways,  and  to  keep  his  feet 
from  wandering. 

Not  alone  on  Frank's  account  was  Marie  con 
cerned.  Her  anxiety  for  her  brother  was  even 
greater  than  for  her  lover.  Horace  would  take 
no  hint  or  remonstrance  from  his  sister.  The 
slightest  intimation  on  her  part  that  she  thought 
him  in  danger  roused  a  feeling  of  anger.  He 
had  grown  irritable  and  moody,  and  seemed  to 
be  losing  both  his  interest  in  and  love  for  Marie, 
to  whom  he  had  always  been  warmly  attached. 
Frank  she  hoped  to  restrain  through  her  per- 
15 


226  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

petual  love  and  care;  but  Horace  was  going 
farther  and  farther  away,  and  out  of  the  reach 
of  her  influence  ;  and  this  threw  over  her  heart 
a  perpetual  shadow. 

The  wedding-day  arrived.  "  Happy  is  the 
bride  that  the  sun  shines  on."  Not  with  any 
fair  promise  did  the  morning  open.  There 
was  a  dull,  leaden  sky  and  slow-falling  rain. 
If  there  had  been  a  rushing  sound  of  wind, 
and  gusty  intermissions,  and  the  sweep  of 
cloudy  chariots  across  the  heavens,  to  break 
the  silence  and  oppression  and  stir  the  pulses, 
the  gloom  and  vague  foreboding  that  settled 
over  the  household  might  have  been  dispelled. 
But  nature  herself  was  against  them.  As  for 
Mrs.  Lyrnan,  the  tears  that  filled  her  eyes,  as, 
after  an  almost  sleepless  night,  she  saw  in  the 
east  only  a  dull  gray  light  instead  of  the  purple 
rays  that  heralded  a  cloudless  sunrise,  were  in 
in  them  all  the  day  long. 

The  ceremony  was  to  be  at  twelve  o'clock;  the 
grand  collation  at  one ;  and  at  three  the  bride 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  227 

and  groom  were  to  start  on  their  wedding- 
tour. 

Frank,  in  parting  with  Marie  on  the  evening 
before,  had  promised  to  come  round  in  the  morn 
ing  and  see  her,  if  it  was  but  for  a  moment;  but 
this  promise  he  had  not  kept — a  circumstance 
that  left  a  feeling  of  disappointment  and  uneasi 
ness  in  the  mind  of  the  bride-to-be.  Her  brother 
had  not  come  home  until  very  late,  and  his  ap 
pearance  at  breakfast-time  indicated  too  plainly 
that  the  night  had  been  spent  in  dissipation. 
Had  Frank  been  with  him  ?  Ah !  if  her  faith 
in  Frank  could  have  given  the  undoubting  an 
swer,  "No!" 

On  leaving  Marie,  at  an  earlier  hour  than 
usual  on  the  night  before,  young  Sylvester  had 
gone  directly  to  the  Brantly  House,  where  a 
party  of  friends  awaited  him.  Among  these 
were  two  or  three  rather  wild  and  reckless 
fellows  from  New  York,  who  had  planned  to 
make  him  drunk,  if  possible,  on  the  eve  of  his 
wedding-day ;  it  would  be  such  rare  sport !  In 


228  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

this  wicked  purpose  they  were  too  successful. 
At  two  o'clock  he  wras  taken  home  by  a  waiter, 
so  badly  intoxicated  that  he  could  neither  walk 
nor  stand  without  support. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock,  on  the  dark  and  to 
him  wretched  morning  that  followed,  before 
Frank,  with  all  the  disgraceful  signs  of  his  last 
night's  debauch  visible  in  his  face,  came  down 
from  his  room,  and  swallowed  a  cup  of  strong 
coffee  in  order  to  steady  his  nerves.  For  food 
he  had  no  appetite.  He  did  not  forget  his 
promise  to  call  on  Marie,  just  for  a  minute; 
but  how  could  he  do  this  ?  And,  indeed,  the 
morning  was  too  far  gone.  She  was  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  were  to  prepare  her  for  the 
bridal,  and  he  had  none  too  much  time  left  in 
which  to  make  himself  ready. 

In  her  white  dress  and  veil  and  sweet  orange 

O 

blossoms,  as  she  stood  among  her  bridesmaids, 
Marie  was  a  picture  of  loveliness.  But  all  the 
color  had  gone  out  of  her  face.  A  few  minutes, 
and  the  hands  on  the  dial,  towards  which  her 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  229 

eyes  kept  turning  restlessly  every  moment,  would 
point  to  the  hour  of  twelve ;  and  up  to  this  time 
Frank  had  not  made  his  appearance,  nor  had 
any  word  come  from  him. 

Waiting  and  silence ;  a  brooding  sense  of  fear. 
What  does  it  mean  ?  The  hands  move  on. 
Moments  seem  like  hours.  Hark !  a  sound  of 
carriage-wheels  in  rapid  motion.  The  clock  is 
striking  the  hour  as  the  laggard  bridegroom 
enters.  Marie  lifts  her  eyes  to  his  face  ;  and 
then  like  a  leaden  weight  her  heart  sinks  down 
in  her  bosom. 

Had  he  been  drinking?  Nothing  stronger 
than  a  cup  of  coffee  !  But  Marie  read  in  his  pale 
and  nerveless  face,  and  in  the  shame  in  his  eyes 
that  gave  her  no  glad  greeting,  all  the  truth  she 
had  feared.  There  had  been  a  night  of  folly  and 
disgrace.  For  an  instant  the  thought  of  stepping 
back  swept  through  her  mind ;  but  it  was  for  an 
instant  only.  A  moment  after,  and  one  hand 
was  drawn  within  his  arm  and  clasped  by  the 
other.  Her  head  bent  a  little  forward,  her  eyes 


230         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

resting  on  the  floor.  A  deep  hush ;  a  waiting 
stillness ;  and  then  the  bridal  party  went  down 
and  stood  before  the  clergyman. 

As  Mr.  Lyman,  who  had  heard  about  the  revel 
of  the  night  before,  in  which  his  own  son  had 
taken  a  part,  looked  at  his  daughter's  colorless 
face  as  she  was  about  giving  her  irrevocable  pro 
mise  to  become  the  wife  of  a  man  who  had  so 
miserably  debauched  himself  with  drink  on  the 
very  eve  of  his  wedding-day,  he  could  hardly 
restrain  an  impulse  that  rose  in  his  heart  to  for 
bid  the  banns.  He  might  have  done  this  had 
not  the  eyes  of  so  many  been  upon  him.  But, 
in  his  weak  pride  and  foolish  love  of  eclat,  he 
had  lifted  a  ceremonial  so  peculiarly  sacred  to  the 
heart  and  home  into  the  region  of  display.  New 
friends,  invited  to  the  exhibition,  were  there,  and 
it  would  never  do  to  mar  the  scene  and  make 
them  witnesses  of  his  family's  disgrace.  Dis 
grace  !  That  was  the  swift  thought  that  flashed 
across  his  mind.  The  skeleton  must  not  be  cast 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  281 

forth  to  be  seen  of  all,  but  hidden  away  from 
sight. 

Not  so  far  out  of  sight  as  Mr.  Lyman  imagined 
was  hidden  the  ghastly  thing.  Was  it  the  dark 
and  dreary  day ;  or  the  penetrating  sphere  of  a 
troubled  household ;  or  the  presence  in  every 
guest's  mind  of  the  truth  about  Sylvester,  which 
all  Brantly  knew  before  the  day  was  three  hours 
old,  that  cast  a  shadow  and  a  restraint  upon  the 
whole  company,  and  which  was  not  dispelled 
until  the  wine  of  the  lavish  entertainment  that 
followed  the  marriage  ceremony  gave  its  exhil 
aration  to  heart  and  brain  ?  All  had  their  influ 
ence,  chiefly  the  last. 

The  nervous  exhaustion  from  which  Frank 
was  suffering  in  consequence  of  the  last  night's 
excess,  became  so  great  by  the  time  the  collation 
was  ready,  that  cold  beads  of  sweat  stood  on  his 
forehead ;  and  his  pale  face  drew  the  notice  of 
many  eyes.  He  did  not  look  the  happy  bride 
groom.  But  it  was  not  long  after  the  popping 
of  corks  and  the  clinking  of  glasses  were  heard, 


232  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

before  a  change  became  visible.  A  warmer  color 
flushed  his  cheeks ;  his  eyes  regained  their  bright 
ness;  his  form  drew  itself  to  a  firmer  bearing; 
his  voice  had  a  more  confident  tone.  Soon  the 
old  gayety  and  freedom;  the  pleasant  jest  and 
merry  laughter.  This  was  not  so  noticeable  to 
the  many  as  to  the  few,  in  whose  hearts  fear  and 
pain  and  a  sense  of  humiliation  held  anxious 
counsel;  for  in  the  general  hilarity  that  came 
with  the  feast  the  spirits  of  all  had  their  measure 
of  exaltation. 

There  had  never  been  seen  in  Brantly  an 
entertainment  on  so  lavish  a  scale,  and  in  a  style 
of  such  elegance,  as  this  one.  It  was  a  real  sen 
sation.  Town's  peqple  took  note  of  its  novel 
peculiarities  and  specially  attractive  features,  in 
order  to  describe  them  to  those  who  were  not  so 
fortunate  as  themselves  in  being  numbered  with 
the  invited  guests.  The  abundance  of  wine  was 
among  its  noticeable  features ;  and  especially  the 
freedom  with  which  it  was  taken  by  the  younger 
portion  of  the  company.  And  there  was  still 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  233 

another  noticeable  thing — new  to  Brantly's  ex 
perience  in  social  life — and  that  was  a  wild,  noisy, 
almost  uproarious  freedom  of  speech  and  manner, 
especially  with  the  young  men  and  girls  who  had 
come  over  from  the  hotel,  and  which  gradually 
communicated  itself  to  the  young  people  of  the 
town. 

Among  the  guests  was  Mr.  Norman,  an  old 
and  valued  friend  of  the  family — he  was  there  of 
course.  His  serious  face  and  quiet  but  keenly 
observant  eyes  gave  to  Mr.  Lyman  an  uneasy 
impression,  whenever  he  happened  to  encounter 
him.  He  had  no  need  to  ask  the  grave  old  man 
what  he  thought  of  his  elegant  entertainment. 
He  knew  that  there  was  no  approval  in  his 
heart. 

Gradually,  as  the  hilarity  became  more  and 
more  pronounced  among  those  who  were  indulg 
ing  themselves  too  freely  in  champagne,  the  older, 
more  prudent,  and  more  thoughtful  of  the  com 
pany,  began  separating  themselves  from  the  gay 
and  noisy  portion,  and  to  regard  the  latter  with 


234  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

sober  looks  and  questioning  glances.  Festivity 
was  losing  itself  in  revelry.  There  were  fathers 
and  mothers  there  who  began  to  feel  ashamed  for 
the  wild,  free  conduct  of  their  sons  arid  daugh 
ters  ;  and  more  than  one  of  these  saw,  with  alarm 
and  deep  mortification,  their  boys  passing  over 
into  partial  inebriation. 

Mr.  Norman  had  withdrawn  himself  from  the 
crowded  rooms  in  which  the  collation  was  spread, 
and  was  standing  near  a  window,  that  opened  out 
upon  the  piazza,  when  a  gentleman  whom  he 
had  met  a  few  times  at  the  new  hotel  said  to 
him,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders, 

"Is  this  the  way  you  do  things  in  Brantly?" 

"  It  was  never  before  so  seen,"  replied  Mr. 
Norman. 

"  Indeed!" 

"  These  are  city  ways." 

"  Beg  pardon.  Not  city  ways ;  but  rude,  dis 
orderly,  and  vulgar  ways,  let  them  be  seen  where 
they  may." 

"  Until  the  city  element  came  in,  and  affected 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  235 

our  young  men  and  women  with  its  license  and 
its  excess,  we  had  nothing  of  this." 

"  The  city  element,  or  the  wine  and  brandy  ele 
ment  ?"  queried  the  gentleman,  with  a  steady 
look  at  Mr.  Norman. 

"You  have  said  it,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"  Given  the  abundance  of  wine  we  have  here 
to-night  and  you  will  be  likely  to  have  a  similar 
scene,  whether  the  entertainment  be  in  city  or 
country,"  returned  the  other.  "  I  have  seen  it 
over  and  over  again.  It  is  a  great  mistake,  sir ; 
a  great  mistake — I  might  call  it  by  some  harder 
name — to  set  a  temptation  like  this  in  the  way 
of  young  people.  I  am  the  more  surprised  at 
Mr.  Lyman,  because,  as  I  have  heard,  both  his 
son  and  the  young  man  who  has  just  married  his 
daughter,  are  inclined  to  use  liquors  rather  too 
freely.  Is  this  really  so  ?" 

Before  Mr.  Norman  could  reply,  a  wild  burst 
of  laughter,  mingled  witli  a  confusion  of  voices, 
drew  their  attention,  and  they  saw  Frank  Sylves 
ter  with  a  glass  in  one  hand  and  his  arm  about 


236  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

the  waist  of  a  madcap  girl  almost  as  much  under 
the  influence  of  wine  as  himself,  trying,  with  un 
certain  steps,  to  execute  a  waltz ;  while  a  score 
of  young  people  closed  about  them,  and  cheered 
their  unsteady  movements.  It  was  a  sad  sight, 
hurting  the  eyes  of  many,  and  casting  a  painful 
restraint  over  nearly  the  whole  company.  Even 
a  portion  of  the  reckless  and  excited  young  peo 
ple,  who  had  caught  the  infection  of  the  hour, 
were  brought  back  into  a  soberer  state  of  mind. 

A  chill  seemed  to  creep  down  into  the  heart 
of  nearly  every  one,  and  the  light  of  the  sombre 
day  to  grow  darker,  as  if  heavier  clouds  had  come 
sweeping  across  the  sky. 

How  natural  that  all  eyes,  as  they  turned  from 
the  hot,  excited  countenance  of  the  more  than 
half-intoxicated  young  man,  should  go  searching 
after  his  bride!  Her  face,  out  of  which  the  un 
usual  pallor  that  all  had  noticed  did  not  pass 
with  the  passing  ceremony,  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen  in  the  banqueting  room ;  nor  in  the  parlors. 
Long  ere  this  she  had  gone  quietly  up  to  her 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  237 

chamber  and  was  there,  alone  with  her  mother,  her 
face  wet  with  tears  and  hidden  on  her  breast.  It 
was  well  for  both  that  they  were  not  witnesses  of 
the  scene  we  have  described,  nor  of  another  still 
more  painful,  that  followed  soon  afterwards,  when 
Marie's  brother,  attracted  by  the  laughter  and 
outcry,  carne  forward  to  see  what  was  going  on. 
He,  too,  had  been  drinking  freely ;  but  his  tem 
perament  being  different  from  that  of  Sylvester, 
the  effect  on  his  brain  was  different.  Instead  of 
becoming  gay  and  reckless  under  the  influence 
of  wine,  he  grew  moody,  suspicious  and  ill-na 
tured.  He  knew,  of  course,  in  what  condition 
Frank  had  been  taken  home  on  the  night  before, 
and  felt  keenly  the  wrong  to  his  sister  involved 
in  this  marriage.  Though  not  setting  any  guard 
upon  himself,  he  had  watched  Sylvester  and  seen 
with  a  growing  sense  of  irritation  the  dangerous 
freedom  with  which  he  was  filling  and  emptying 
glass  after  glass  ;  and  as  his  own  brain  became 
more  and  more  confused,  his  feeling  of  displeasure 
grew  stronger.  On  seeing  what  was  passing,  he 


238  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

lost  his  self-control  entirely.  Breaking  through 
the  crowd,  he  cried  angrily, 

"  Don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself,  Frank  Syl 
vester  !  There's  heen  more  than  enough  of  this  !" 

Instantly  there  fell  a  dead  silence  upon  the 
company.  Mr.  Lyman,  who  stood  near,  sprang 
forward  and  between  the  two  young  men,  and 
putting  his  arm  within  that  of  his  son  drew  him 
from  the  room.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  doing 
this,  for  Horace  saw  in  an  instant  the  folly  of  his 
act,  and  the  disgrace  it  had  brought  upon  himself 
and  his  family.  The  madcap  young  girl  who 
had  a  moment  before  been  whirling  about  in  the 
waltz,  dropped  her  hold  on  Sylvester's  arm  and 
shrank  away  from  him  abashed  ;  as  did  many  of 
the  rioisest  and  most  reckless  of  the  gay  young 
men  and  women  who  had  gathered  about  them. 

What  after  that,  but  for  the  guests  to  take  their 
departure  ?  One  and  another  went  drifting  out, 
silent  and  with  thoughtful  faces,  until  only  a  few 
of  the  nearer  friends  remained.  Among  these 
was  Mr.  Norman.  He  was  sitting  alone  with 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  239 

Mr.  Lyman  in  his  office,  to  which  they  had  retired, 
when  Mr.  Fithian  carne  in  hastily.  There  was  a 
frightened  look  in  the  man's  face,  which  showed 
a  great  deal  of  repressed  agitation. 

"Is  your  son  Horace  here?"  he  asked,  his 
voice  shaking  as  he  spoke. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Lyman.  "Do  you  wish 
to  see  him  particularly  ?" 

"  I  do." 

"  Take  a  chair."  Mr.  Fithian  took  the  offered 
seat.  Large  drops  of  perspiration  were  standing 
on  his  forehead. 

"  I  hope  there's  nothing  wrong,"  said  Mr.  Nor 
man,  as  Mr.  Lyman  went  from  the  office  to  call 
his  son. 

"  I  don't  know,  but  there's  a  had  look  about 
things,"  replied  Fithian. 

"  You've  had  a  good  season." 

"That's  to  be  seen." 

Mr.  Lyman  came  in  with  his  son,  whose  face 
wore  a  sullen  aspect.  Fithian  started  up  as  soon 
as  he  saw  him  and  asked  eagerly — 


240          THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

"Did  you  see  my  son  Charley  last  night?" 

"  I  did." 

"At  what  time?" 

Horace  reflected  for  a  moment  and  then  an 
swered — 

"  I  met  him  and  Floyd  walking  down  the  street 
together.  Floyd  had  a  satchel  in  his  hand." 

"  At  what  time  ?" 

"  About  nine  o'clock,  I  think." 

"  Was  Charley  carrying  anything?" 

"  Not  that  I  observed.  Yes,  now  that  I  think 
of  it,  he  had  a  package  of  something  under  his 


arm." 


"  And  you  saw  nothing  of  him  afterwards  ?" 

"  Nothing." 

Fithian  was  silent  for  some  moments,  as  he 
stood  with  his  eyes  cast  down.  His  hands  were 
moving  nervously,  while  the  agitation  of  his  face 
visibly  increased. 

"Have  you  ever  heard  anything  about  this 
Floyd  ?"  he  asked,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  young 
man's  face. 


MARIE'S  WEDDING. 
"  Yes  ;  considerable." 


"  I  heard  a  gentleman  from  New  York  say 
that  he  was  a  dangerous  fellow;  and  another, 
that  he  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  gambler." 

Mr.  Fithian  drew  his  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face. 

"  Anything  else  ?" 

"Yes.  That  he  had  once  been  indicted  for 
forgery,  and  narrowly  escaped  going  to  the  state's 
prison.  The  only  thing  that  saved  him,  it  is 
said,  was  the  fact  that  a  young  man,  the  son  of 
a  wealthy  merchant,  was  implicated  in  the  crime, 
and  to  hush  up  a  family  disgrace  the  suit  was 
abandoned." 

A  groan  came  from  Fithian's  lips. 

"  There  is  nothing  wrong  with  Charley,  I 
hope,"  said  Mr.  Lyman. 

66  1  don't  know.  It  was  about  nine  o'clock 
that  you  saw  them  ?"  addressing  Horace. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Which  way  were  they  going  ?" 
16 


242  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  Down  the  road." 

"  The  train  passes  Hope  well  station  about  ten 
o'clock?" 

"I  think  it  does." 

"  And  they  were  going  in  that  direction  ?" 

"  Yes/' 

Another  groan  ;  a  restless  turning  of  the  hands 
one  within  the  other ;  a  stride  or  two  across  the 
office  floor,  and  then  back  again.  The  man  was 
unable  to  control  his  agitation. 

"May  I  speak  with  you  alone,  Mr.  Lyman  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

Mr.  Norman  and  Horace  retired  from  the  office. 
Fithian's  agitation  was  growing  stronger. 

"  I'm  afraid  there's  been  some  awfully  bad 
work  going  on,  Mr.  Lyman."  The  man's  voice 
shook  as  he  spoke. 

"Why  do  you  think  so?  What  kind  of  bad 
work?" 

"  0,  dear !  I  don't  know.  But  there's  some 
thing  wrong.  A  man  came  up  by  the  train  from 
New  York  to-day  with  a  bill  of  over  a  thousand 


MARIE'S  WEDDING.  243 

dollars  for  wines  and  liquors ;  and  I  didn't  know 
that  there  was  a  single  outstanding  account.  lie 
says  that  the  firm  has  written  half  a  dozen  times 
asking  for  a  settlement,  but  could  get  no  answer. 
I've  been  hunting  all  over  for  Charley.  But  no 
one  has  seen  him  since  last  night." 

"  Is  Mr.  Fithian  here  ?"  asked  a  man,  as  he 
opened  the  office  door.  On  seeing  the  object  of 
his  search,  he  said — 

"  There  are  two  or  three  people  waiting  to  see 
you  over  at  the  hotel,  sir." 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  inquired  Fithian. 

"  One  of  them's  the  butcher,  sir;  and  he's  very 
particular  about  seeing  you  right  away." 

"  Very  well.     I'll  be  along  in  a  little  while." 

As  the  man  went  out,  Fithian  turned  to  the 
lawyer,  his  face  still  more  anxious  and  troubled. 

"  I  don't  know  what  Hardy  wants  with  me  in 
such  a  hurry.  He's  been  paid  his  bills  every 
week." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?"  asked  Mr.  Lyman. 


244  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

His  question  sent  a  ghastly  pallor  across  the 
other's  face. 

"  They  must  have  been  paid.  I  was  particular 
about  this.  There  were  to  be  no  bills.  It  was 
to  be  cash  for  everything." 

"  Did  you  examine  the  accounts  regularly  ?" 

"  I  looked  over  them  now  and  then ;  and  they 
seemed  to  be  all  right.  I  trusted  Charley  as  you 
would  have  trusted  your  son." 

"  You'd  better  see  Mr.  Hardy,  and  find  out 
what  he  wants.  If  you  wish  to  consult  ine  about 
anything,  I  will  be  in  my  office  after  four  o'clock." 

As  Fithian  went  out,  Mr.  Lyman  sat  down, 
his  chin  dropping  upon  his  breast,  and  his  form 
shrinking  in  his  chair.  Then  a  low  murmer, 

"God  help  us  all!"  came  sighing  from  his 
lips. 


MORE    BITTER   FRUIT.  245 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MORE    BITTER    FRUIT. 

A  HAND  on  Mr.  Lyman's  shoulder  aroused 
him  from  the  painful  reverie  into  which  he 
had  fallen. 

"  They  are  going,"  said  his  wife.  The  lawyer 
started  to  his  feet.  For  a  few  moments  the  hus 
band  and  wife  looked  at  each  other;  doubt, 
anxiety  and  fear  in  their  eyes. 

"  You  will  accompany  them  to  the  station  ?" 
The  voice  of  Mrs.  Lyman  trembled. 

"  If  you  think  I  had  better  do  so." 

"  0  yes.     Go  !     I  want  you  to  go." 

"  Where  is  Horace  ?" 

"  With  Mr.  Norman,  in  the  parlor." 

"  Is  he  going  over  to  the  train  ?" 


246         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

"No,  he's  changed  his  mind  about  it.  I  don't 
know  what's  the  matter  with  him."  There  was 
a  choking  sound  in  Mrs.  Lyman's  throat. 

"  Do  you  think  it  right  to  let  them  go  off  alone  ?" 
she  asked  in  the  next  moment,  all  her  face  quiv 
ering  with  the  repressed  anxiety  that  was  in  her 
heart. 

Mr.  Lyman  looked  at  his  wife  in  silent  bewil 
derment. 

"  To  trust  our  daughter  with  a  man  in  his 
condition?  Oh,  it  is  an  awful  thing!  You  must 
not  let  them  go,  Roger !  Say  that  they  cannot 
go!" 

"  And  so  publish  our  disgrace  to  the  world ! 
No,  no  !  I  can't  do  that !" 

"  It  is  published  already ;  and  nothing  that  we 
can  do  is  going  to  make  it  any  the  less.  What 
most  concerns  us  now  is  our  daughter.  Can  we 
let  her  go  from  us,  on  her  bridal  tour,  alone  with 
this  half-intoxicated  man  ?" 

Mrs.  Lyman  shivered  as  she  spoke. 

"You  put  the  case  too  strongly.     It  is   not 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  247 

really  so  bad.  The  champagne  went  to  his  head, 
as  it  did,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  to  that  of  too  many 
others.  But  the  effect  is  passing  off;  and  before 
he  reaches  the  city  he  will  be  all  over  it,  and 
deeply  ashamed  of  what  has  happened.  It  would 
not  help  the  matter  at  all  if  we  were  to  interfere 
with  their  going  away ;  and  might  do  harm. 
The  mortification  to  Marie  would  be  dreadful ; 
and  there  is  no  telling  what  effect  it  would  have 
on  Frank.  There  is  danger  in  too  great  humilia- 


tion." 


Time  was  passing.  In  order  to  reach  the  sta 
tion  early  enough  to  meet  the  down-going  train, 
the  bridal  party  must  start  at  once.  Carriages 
were  waiting  at  the  door.  As  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ly- 
man  stood  hesitating,  steps  and  voices  were  heard 
on  the  stairs.  Coming  out  into  the  hall,  they 
found  their  daughter  there  in  her  travelling  dress ; 
she  was  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  young  husband, 
in  whose  dull  face  and  heavy  eyes  could  be  seen 
the  sad  evidences  of  his  late  free  indulgence. 
Her  face  still  held  the  pallor  which  had  been  in 


248  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT   BRANTLY. 

it  all  the  day  ;  and  there  was  about  her  a  weary 
air  and  a  half  absent  manner.  It  was  noticed 
that  she  did  not  look  any  one  steadily  in  the  eyes. 

As  Mrs.  Lyman  came  from  the  office  into  the 
hall  and  stood  fronting  her  daughter,  Marie  put 
her  arms  about  her  neck  and  laid  her  head  down 
upon  her  bosom.  A  few  moments  of  perfect  still 
ness — then  two  or  three  sobs,  and  as  many  re 
pressed  spasms,  felt  only  by  the  mother — then  a 
lifting  up  of  her  face,  and  a  long,  long  look  into 
the  tender  eyes  that  gazed  into  hers ;  and  then — 
a  quick  movement  towards  the  door,  a  hurried 
passing  into  the  carriages,  and  the  sound  of  strik 
ing  hoofs  and  rasping  wheels  as  the  bridal  party 
drove  away. 

No  one  spoke  to  Mrs.  Lyman,  as,  shrinking 
back  from  the  door,  she  went  with  hurrying  feet 
along  the  hall  and  up  to  her  chamber,  to  be  alone 
with  her  aching  heart  and  with  God. 

Mr.  Lyman  was  in  the  carriage  with  his  daugh 
ter  and  Frank.  He  had  hoped  to  find  the  young 
man  so  far  recovered  from  the  influence  of  drink 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  249 

as  to  be  in  a  condition  to  take  a  few  words  of 
advice  or  warning ;  but  his  stupor  seemed  to  be 
growing  heavier  all  the  while,  instead  of  passing 
off.  Almost  in  silence  was  the  distance  made 
from  the  town  to  the  railroad  station.  The 
whistle  of  the  coming  train  was  heard  as  the  car 
riages  drew  up,  and  Mr.  Lyman  had  actually  to 
arouse  Sylvester,  with  a  vigorous  shake,  from  the 
sleepy  torpor  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

Was  it  right  to  let  his  daughter  go  off  alone, 
on  her  bridal  tour,  with  a  half-intoxicated  bride 
groom  ?  "  No,  no,  no  !"  answered  his  heart  and 
his  judgment.  But  weak  pride,  and  a  fear  that 
hesitated  over  thoughts  of  social  disgrace,  held 
him  from  the  right  action  until  it  was  too  late — 
until  he  saw  the  train  move  off  and  go  rushing 
out  of  sight,  while  he  stood  on  the  platform  at 
the  station,  looking  after  it  with  sad  and  troubled 
feelings. 

On  returning  to  his  office  Mr.  Lyman  found 
Fithian  waiting  to  see  him.  The  man's  face 
looked  pinched  and  worn  as  from  long  suffering. 


250  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

In  its  expression  he  saw  a  hard,  unpitying  stern 
ness,  and  something  almost  like  despair.  He  was 
walking  the  floor  as  Mr.  Lyman  entered. 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  from  Charley  ?" 
asked  the  lawyer. 

A  bitter  imprecation  on  the  head  of  his  boy, 
a  clenching  of  his  hands,  and  a  cruel  flashing  of 
his  eyes,  was  the  only  answer. 

"  Sit  down,  and  tell  me  just  what  this  means," 
said  Mr.  Lyman. 

"  Just  what  it  means  ?  It  means  disgrace  and 
ruin  !  It  means  betrayal  and  robbery  !"  and 
Fithiari  threw  out  his  clenched  fists  and  ground 
his  teeth. 

"What  have  you  heard?"  asked  Mr.  Lyman. 
"  Calm  yourself.  Passion  will  do  no  good." 

Fithian  sat  down,  panting  in  his  excitement. 

"  Enough  to  drive  a  man  mad  !" 

"  Did  you  see  Hardy  ?" 

«  Yes." 

"Well,  what  did  he  want?" 

"  He  wanted  six  hundred  dollars.    And  I  never 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  251 

dreamed  for  a  moment  that  his  bills  were  not 
paid  dollar  for  dollar  every  week !" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that.  Have  you  been 
over  Charley's  cash-book  ?  There  may  have  been 
payments  that  will  offset  all,  or  a  part,  of  this 
large  account." 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  over  his  cash-book." 
There  was  a  snarl  in  Fithian's  voice,  and  a  mo 
mentary  gleam  from  his  white  teeth. 

"  And  what  did  you  find  there  ?" 

"  Lying,  and  cheating,  and  wholesale  robbery  ! 
Not  half  the  daily  receipts  entered;  fictitious 
charges  made,  and  false  balances  struck.  Wages 
due  to  everybody — from  the  head  waiter  down 
to  the  knife-scourer.  The  rascal  must  have  made 
way  with  from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars !" 

"  Charley  would  never  have  done  that  of  him 
self,"  said  Mr.  Lyman.  "  How  long  has  this  man 
Floyd  been  about  ?" 

66  Off  and  on  during  the  whole  season.  But  I 
saw  nothing  to  awaken  my  suspicions.  He  was  an 
agreeable  man  ;  always  polite  and  social.  Of  late 


252  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

I  noticed  that  he  and  Charley  were  together  more 
than  usual ;  and  once  or  twice  I  fancied  that  I  saw 
a  signal  passing  between  them  as  I  came  into  the 
office.  But  I  did  not  think  of  anything  wrong." 

"  This  villain  Floyd  has  been  too  strong  for  him. 
I  don't  believe  the  boy  ever  meant,  in  the  begin 
ning,  to  rob  you  of  a  single  dollar." 

"I  don't  care  what  he  meant,  one  way  or 
another,  the  young  scoundrel  !  He  has  robbed, 
and  ruined  me  into  the  bargain,  I  am  afraid. 
And  now,  what  is  to  be  done,  Mr.  Lyman  ?  That's 
the  question.  That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

Fithian  grew  calm  ;  and  his  mouth  was  set 
sternly. 

"  About  what  ?" 

"  About  catching  them.  They  must  be  caught. 
I  must  get  back  my  money." 

"  Catching  them  will  not  bring  it  back,  I'm 
afraid." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  Charley  took  any  large  amount 
of  money  away  with  him  ?" 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  253 

"I  do." 

"  In  this  I  imagine  you  to  be  in  error." 

"  Why  ?" 

"  As  I  have  said,  I  don't  believe  your  son  set 
out  in  the  beginning  with  the  intent  to  rob  you. 
Floyd  must  have  insinuated  himself  into  his  con 
fidence  and  gradually  led  him  out  of  the  path  of 
safety — most  probably  through  the  door  of  a  stake 
at  cards.  He  is  charged  with  being  a  professional 
gambler.  Charley  was  no  match  for  so  cool  and 
wary  a  scoundrel ;  did  not  see  in  the  specious 
friend  who  flattered  and  cajoled  him,  a  selfish 
and  cruel  enemy,  until  it  was  too  late  to  denounce 
and  flee  from  him.  I  pity  the  poor  boy !" 

"  Pity  him  !  Ho!"  Fithian  threw  out  the  last 
word  with  a  cruel  rejection  in  his  voice.  "  Pity 
him !"  The  tones  were  changed  into  an  expres 
sion  of  angry  contempt.  "  Pity  is  no  word  for 
the  boy  who  has  robbed  his  father  !" 

"You  may  feel  differently  when  you  know 
all." 

"  Never !     I  would  smite  him    down    at   my 


254  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

feet  if  he  were  here.  Base  wretch  !  To  rob  and 
ruin  his  own  father  !" 

The  man's  face  grew  white  in  the  intense  heat 
of  his  anger  against  his  son. 

"  All  this  is  fruitless,"  said  Mr.  Lyrnan.  "  If 
you  purpose  doing  anything  you  must  act  with 
coolness  and  judgment.  Passion  will  be  sure  to 
lead  you  into  some  imprudence,  and  most  likely 
defeat  the  end  you  have  in  view.  Let  us  come 
to  business.  If  you  wish  to  consult  me,  I  am  at 
your  service." 

"  Very  well.  To  business  then.  I  shall  go  to 
New  York  by  to-night's  train.  What  can  I  do 
when  I  get  there  ?  Suppose  I  find  Charley  and 
Floyd.  Can  I  have  them  arrested  ?" 

"  Have  you  any  evidence  against  Floyd  ?" 

"Evidence  of  what  ?" 

"  That  he  has  committed  a  crime." 

"  Not  yet.  But  after  I  get  Charley,  there'll  be 
evidence  enough,  I'll  warrant  you." 

"  There  may,  or  there  may  not  be.  These  old 
villains  are  shrewd  and  cunning,  and  know  all 


MORE    BITTEH    FRUIT.  255 

the  ways  of  escape.  The  hawk  has  strong  wings, 
and  flies  afar  off  into  the  safe  regions  of  the  upper 
air;  while  the  poor,  plucked  pigeon  lies  fluttering 
on  the  ground.  You  may  get  your  son  back  here 
again  ;  but  I  have  my  doubts  in  regard  to  Floyd. 
He  knows  the  law  much  better  than  you,  and 
will  take  care  to  keep  as  closely  on  its  safe  side 
as  possible.  If  you  can  find  your  son  with  money 
in  his  possession,  you  may  be  able  to  recover  the 
amount  he  has  in  hand.  Beyond  this  your 
chances  are  small.  I  think  you  will  be  doing 
right  to  follow  him  to  New  York,  and  that  with 
as  little  delay  as  possible.  Something  may  be 
saved,  but  it  will  not  be  much,  I  fear." 

As  Fithian  left  the  lawyer's  office,  Mr.  Nor 
man  came  in.  The  two  men  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes  for  a  few  moments  with  serious,  ques 
tioning  glances. 

"  I  am  not  intruding,  I  hope  ?"  said  the  old 
man. 

"  No,  you  can  never  intrude.  At  any  and  all 
times  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you." 


256  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

And  Mr.  Lyman  drew  a  chair  up  to  his  office 
table.  The  two  men  sat  down  close  together, 
and,  face  to  face. 

u  Is  it  not  full  time  to  call  a  halt,  my  friend  ?" 
Good-will  and  gentle  persuasion  were  in  Mr.  Nor 
man's  voice.  "  To  turn  back  on  your  course ; 
to  make  an  effort  to  regain  a  portion  of  what  has 
been  lost,  even  if  that  portion  be  very  small  ?" 

He  looked  to  see  the  lawyer's  brows  darken 
and  his  eyes  give  a  signal  flash  of  warning.  But 
instead  of  anger,  he  saw  trouble,  perplexity,  and 
shame. 

"  Yes,  it  is  full  time/'  was  the  earnest  response. 
"But,  as  to  regaining  what  has  been  lost,  that  I 
fear  is  beyond  the  reach  of  human  effort.  All 
loss  is  in  some  sense  a  loss  forever.  Ah,  sir ! 
Who  knows  anything  about  the  bitterness  of  the 
words,  '  Too  late  !'  until  they  pass  through  his 
own  lips?" 

"  Where  no  effort  is  made  nothing  is  rescued," 
said  Mr.  Norman  in  reply.  "  But  where  hearts 
and  hands  go  into  the  work,  much  that  seems 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  257 

hopelessly  in  peril  may  be  saved.  Let  us  not  sit 
down  with  folded  hands,  weak  and  despairing, 
because  so  much  has  been  lost ;  but  be  up  and 
doing  and  save  what  we  can.  Will  you  not  come 
clear  over  to  our  side,  and  stand  in  face  of  all  the 
people  as  a  leader  ?  A  great  battle  is  to  be  fought 
here  in  Brantly,  and  fought  it  must  be  to  the 
bitter  end.  It  was  your  hand — I  say  it  not  to 
wound  or  censure,  but  that  it  may  stir  you  to  a 
swift  resolve — it  was  your  hand  that  helped  to 
throw  down  the  gate  through  which  a  pitiless 
enemy  came  in.  And  now,  let  it  be  your  hand 
that  draws  the  sword  that  shall  carry  confusion 
into  his  ranks  and  drive  his  robber-hoards  from 
among  us  !  What  say  you,  Mr.  Lyman  ?" 

"  Count  me  on  your  side,"  answered  the  lawyer; 
but  there  was  no  enthusiasm  in  his  voice.  He 
was  thinking  more  about  his  own  loss  and  shame 
than  of  the  greater  loss  and  shame  which  had 
fallen  upon  his  neighbors.  How  was  his  leadership 
in  the  battle  going  to  heal  the  hurt  of  his  own 
household  ?  This  was  his  chief  concern.  The 
17 


258  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

answer  came  as  he  pondered  the  question.  He 
saw  that  in  the  safety  of  all  lay  the  safety  of  each ; 
and  that  in  beating  back  the  enemy  that  was  des 
olating  other  households,  he  made  his  own  the 
more  secure. 

"  Yes,  count  me  on  your  side/'  he  said,  with 
a  stronger  purpose  in  his  voice.  "  From  this  day 
I  set  my  face  as  steel  against  the  traffic  in  every 
form;  and  against  all  the  drinking  usages  that 
curse  the  people.  But,"  he  added,  with  a  change 
in  his  voice,  "  we  shall  find  it  no  easy  task  to 
undo  what  has  been  done.  The  curse  of  a  de 
praved  appetite  is  on  too  many  of  our  people, 
young  and  old;  and  so  long  as  appetite  demands, 
there  will  be  found  no  lack  of  those  who  are 
ready  to  supply." 

"  Yes,  the  task  will,  indeed,  be  a  difficult  one/' 
replied  Mr.  Norman.  "  Unhappily  the  law,  in 
stead  of  protecting  us  against  an  enemy  that  drinks 
the  very  life-blood  of  the  people,  not  only  holds 
open  the  door  for  him  to  rush  in  upon  us,  but 
throws  its  protecting  arms  about  him  while  he 


MOKE    BITTER    FRUIT.  259 

desolates  the  land.  We  have  the  law  and  the 
enemy  both  against  us." 

i:  All  too  true.  And  with  the  law  against  us, 
Mr.  Norman,  where  is  the  hope  of  success  ?" 

"  Bad  as  the  law  is,  in  that  it  opens  the  door 
for  this  robber  and  protects  him  while  he  exhausts 
the  people,  it  lays  upon  him  a  few  restraints. 
It  says,  that  the  minor  shall  not  be  hurt ;  and  it 
says  also,  that  after  a  man  has  been  so  often  plun 
dered  and  beaten  down,  that  will  and  strength 
are  nearly  gone,  his  heart-broken  wife  or  next  of 
kin,  may  demand  his  exemption.  And  it  says 
further,  that  if  any  poor  victim  grows  mad  under 
the  tortures  of  the  fiend  of  intemperance,  let  loose 
upon  him  by  this  robber,  and  in  his  wild  fury 
hurts  or  destroys  anything,  then  the  licensed  rob 
ber  shall  be  held  accountable  for  the  loss,  and  give 
up  some  of  his  ill-gotten  gains,  in  order  to  make  it 
good.  So  you  see  that  we  have  three  entrenched 
points  from  which  to  wage  our  warfare." 

"  You  have  had  these  from  the  beginning,"  said 
Mr.  Lyman. 


260  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"But,   unhappily,  men  like  you  were  against 


us." 


"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Norman." 

"  Think  for  a  moment." 

The  color  began  rising  into  Mr.  Lyman's  face. 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  see.  But  I  had  to  protect  my 
clients." 

"  Though  you  knew  that  they  had  broken  the 
law,  and  in  breaking  it,  hurt  your  neighbor's  chil 
dren  ;  that  in  securing  their  freedom  from  its 
penalties,  you  gave  them  a  larger  power  to  do 
evil.  Even  the  little  that  the  law  conceded,  you 
helped  to  take  away.  What  wonder  that  Brantly 
is  beneath  the  heel  of  this  unsparing  enemy  to 
day  !  With  the  law  in  all  its  main  features  against 
us;  and  with  lawyers,  judges  and  juries  against 
us  even  in  the  few  saving  clauses  left  us  by  the 
law,  what  chance  had  we  ?  And  you  were  not 
generous  towards  us.  Because  we  set  ourselves 
in  the  way  of  wrongdoing,  and  sought  to  protect 
the  people,  you  turned  upon  us  the  weapons 
of  ridicule ;  called  us  by  names  that  were  designed 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  261 

to  bring  us  into  contempt  with  the  people  and 
weaken  our  influence.  And  you  were  too  success 
ful,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  Duty  to  a  client  does 
not,  I  am  sure,  warrant  all  this.  Does  a  man, 
because  he  is  a  lawyer,  cease  to  be  a  good  citizen ; 
cease  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  a  man  of  honor  ?  I 
speak  plainly  because  I  feel  strongly." 

At  another  time  offence  would  have  been 
taken ;  but  the  lawyer  was  in  too  sore  distress  of 
mind  to  let  the  plain  speech  of  Mr.  Norman  wound 
his  self-esteem. 

"It  was  not  fair,  I  admit,"  he  returned,  "  though 
justified  by  the  usages  of  the  profession." 

"Usage  cannot  make  right  out  of  wrong;  but 
it  can,  and  does  often,  give  to  wrong  an  increase 
of  power  to  do  evil.  But  we  will  let  this  pass. 
All  we  now  ask  is,  that  the  law  shall  not  be  ob 
structed  in  its  course  ;  so  that  we  may  say  to 
those  to  whom  it  has  given  power  to  hurt  the 
people :  Thus  far  and  no  farther !  This,  at 
least,  in  common  right,  we  should  have." 

"  And  this  we  will  have,"  said  Mr.  Lyman,  as 


262  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

he  struck  his  hand  upon  the  table.  "  I  say  we, 
for  now  and  henceforth  I  am  on  your  side  of  the 
question.  Whatever  of  power  to  limit  and  re 
strain  the  law  gives  us,  we  will  take  hold  upon 
and  use  against  this  wretched  traffic.  You  see, 
Mr.  Norman,  that  I  am  in  earnest !" 

."Ah,  if  you  had  only  been  with  us  and  as 
earnest  when  our  fight  began  !" 

O  C 

"  I  was  against  you,  God  forgive  me  !  I  helped 
to  open  the  door  for  this  vile  and  venomous  thing 
to  enter,  and  when  it  was  open,  set  myself  against 
those  who  tried  to  save  the  weak  and  helpless 
from  the  stroke  of  its  deadly  fang.  But  I  am 
with  you  now,  and  not  only  I,  but  others  I  might 
name,  who  were  against  you  a  year  ago.  Men 
may  be  indifferent  to  a  social  evil  that  passes  by 
their  own  doors ;  but  let  its  blight  once  fall  upon 
them,  and  they  are  roused  to  antagonism.  So  it 
is  to-day  in  Brantly.  The  rum-seller,  if  he  is 
brought  into  court  now,  will  not  have  the  standing- 
he  once  enjoyed  with  bench,  bar  and  juries.  If 
he  has  violated  the  strict  letter  of  the  statute  he 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  263 

will  be  punished.  No  lawyer  of  respectability 
will  advocate  his  cause." 

"Is  Mr.  Norman  here?"  The  office  door  had 
opened  so  quietly  that  neither  of  the  men  was 
aware  of  the  presence  of  a  visitor.  A  woman, 
past  middle  life,  stood  just  inside  of  the  door. 
Her  dress  was  poor  and  faded ;  and  there  was 
a  look  of  sore  trouble  on  her  face. 

"Yes,  I  am  here,"  said  Mr.  Norman,  as  he 
turned  and  saw  the  woman.  "  Oh,  it's  you,  Mrs. 
McAlister!" 

"  Yes,  sir.  It's  me.  They  said  I'd  most  likely 
find  you  here." 

"  Sit  down,  Mrs.  McAlister,"  and  Mr.  Lyman 
handed  the  visitor  a  chair.  But  she  only  thanked 
him  and  remained  standing. 

"  You  wish  to  see  me  ?"  said  Mr.  Norman. 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  you  please.  I'm  in  sore  trouble, 
sir,  and  driven  'most  beside  myself." 

"  What  about,  Mrs.  McAlister?" 

The    woman  hesitated,  glancing  at  the  same 


264  THE   BAR-BOOMS  AT   BKANTLY. 

time  towards  Mr.  Lyman,  who  said,  as  he  made 
a  movement  to  retire  from  the  room, 

"  I'll  leave  you  to  talk  with  her  alone,  Mr. 
Norman.  Make  use  of  my  office  as  long  as  you 
please." 

"  No,  I'd  rather  have  you  remain.  I  can  guess 
pretty  nearly  what  Mrs.  McAlister  wishes  to  see 
me  about,  and  I  want  you  to  hear  what  she  has 
to  say." 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  and  Mr.  Lyman,  after 
again  offering  the  woman  a  chair,  resumed  his 
seat. 

"  And  now,  Mrs.  McAlister,  what  is  it  ?  Talk 
out  just  as  freely  as  if  you  and  I  were  alone," 
said  Mr.  Norman. 

"  Well,  sir,  you  see" — the  voice,  shaky  at 
first,  but  gaining  firmness  as  the  speaker  went 
on— "  things  is  gettin'  worse  and  worse.  My  man 
isn't  workin'  more'n  half  his  time,  and  he's  bring- 
in'  little  or  nothin'  home." 

"  What  does  he  do  with  his  money  ?" 

"  It's  drink,  drink,  drink,  Mr.  Norman  !  Drink 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  265 

all  the  time;  and  he  was  such  a  sober,  indus 
trious  man  before  they  got  these  saloons  in 
Brantly." 

"  Never  drank  before  ?" 

"  I  can't  just  say  that,  sir,"  in  a  half-hesitating 
manner,  a  slight  flush  corning  into  her  sallow 
face.  "  John's  weak,  like  other  men,  and  takes 
to  company,  you  see.  Before  we  came  to  Brantly 
he'd  go  off  on  little  sprees  sometimes ;  but  was 
always  sorry  when  he  got  over  'em,  and  would 
keep  straight  for  a  long  while  afterwards.  It 
was  through  me  that  we  came  here.  I'd  heard 
about  there  being  no  saloons  in  Brantly,  and  so 
I  set  myself  to  gettin'  him  to  move  here ;  and 
worked  at  him  until  it  was  done.  And  you 
know  how  nice  we  got  along  until  after  the  dram 
shops  were  opened.  It's  been  nothin'  but  trouble 
and  down  hill  ever  since.  And  there's  my  boy, 
Andy,  goin'  to  ruin  as  fast  as  he  can  go ;  and  I 
can't  stop  him  !" 

The  poor  woman  broke  down  here,  weeping, 
moaning  and  wringing  her  hands. 


266.  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

"  Is  your  son  under  age  ?"  asked  Mr.  Lyman. 

"  He's  only  turned  of  seventeen,  sir,"  sobbed 
Mrs.  McAlister.  "  And  he  was  such  a  good  boy." 

"  The  law  prohibits  the  selling  of  liquor  to 
minors." 

"  They  don't  mind  the  law,  sir.  It's  no  good. 
I've  been  and  warned  'em,  and  only  got  swore  at 
for  my  trouble.  I've  warned  'ern  about  my  man 
John,  and  warned  'em  about  Andy ;  and  I've 
begged  'em  over  and  over  again  not  to  sell  them 
liquor  ;  but  it's  no  good.  They  don't  care  so  they 
get  the  money.  Oh,  sir  !  Isn't  it  awful  ?" 

The  woman  pushed  her  hair  away  with  both 
hands  from  her  temples,  and  leaned  towards  Mr. 
Lyman,  her  eyes  dilated  and  fixed  with  a  half- 
crazed,  half-despairing  look  upon  his  face.  lie 
drew  a  little  back,  a  creeping  fear  going  along 
his  nerves — the  eyes  of  the  woman  were  so 
wild. 

"  It  is  awful,  ma'am ;  and  the  thing  must  be 
stopped,"  he  answered. 

"Oh,  sir!  if  you  could  only  stop  it!"     There 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  267 

was  a  sudden  eagerness  in  the  woman's  manner, 
all  her  frame  trembling. 

"  Who  sells  your  boy  liquor  ?" 

"  He  gets  it  at  Green's  saloon,  and  at  Mc- 
Laughlin's,  and  at  Mike  Kelly's,  and  I  don't 
know  where." 

"  You  are  sure  of  Mike  Kelly's  and  Green's  ?" 

'"'Just  as  sure  as  that  I  see  your  face,  Mr. 
Lyman." 

"  Can  you  bring  witnesses  to  swear  that  you 
saw  him  drinking  in  any  of  these  places?" 

"  I  can  swear  to  it  myself,  sir.  Only  last 
night  I  went  lookin'  after  him,  and  found  him  at 
Mike  Kelly's,  standin'  at  the  bar  and  drinkin'." 

"  Very  well,  Mrs.  McAlister,  Mike  Kelly  shall 
answer  in  court  for  this.  Let  me  write  out  an 
affidavit.  It  was  last  night,  you  say  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"At  what  hour?" 

"  Nine  by  the  strikin'  of  the  clock,  sir." 

Mr.  Lyman  took  a  piece  of  paper  and  wrote 
the  form  of  an  affidavit,  setting  forth  the  fact 


268  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

that  Mrs.  McAlister's  son  Andy  was  a  minor, 
and  that,  against  the  law,  and  after  repeated 
warnings,  Mike  Kelly  had  sold  intoxicating 
liquor  to  this  boy,  all  of  which  the  mother  stood 
ready  to  prove  in  a  court  of  justice.  After  this 
had  been  signed  and  duly  sworn  to  by  the 
woman,  Mr.  Lyman  assured  her  that,  if  what 
she  had  charged  could  be  proved  against  Kelly, 
he  would  not  only  be  fined  and  imprisoned,  but 
have  his  license  taken  away. 

"  And  surely  ye  don't  mean  that,  Mr.  Lyman !" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  McAlister,  her  face  lighting  up 
with  a  glow  as  warm  as  if  a  ray  of  sunshine 
had  fallen  over  it, 

"It's  the  law,  ma'am." 

"  But  what's  the  use  of  the  law,  sir  ?  It's 
made  for  them,  and  not  for  us ;"  the  light  fading 
slowly  out  of  the  woman's  face.  "  And  then 
they've  got  the  money  to  pay  lawyers.  And 
they  do  say — maybe  it  isn't  true,  but  the  people 
says  it — that  they  sends  bottles  and  bottles  of 
wine  to  the  judges  !" 


MORE    BITTER    FRUIT.  269 

u  No,  no,  no  !  Mrs.  McAlister.  There's  not  a 
word  of  truth  in  that !"  answered  Mr.  Lyrnan. 
"  Oar  judges  are  true  and  honorable  men!" 

"  Maybe  they  are ;  but,  somehow,  they  always 
favors  the  rum-sellers ;  and  it  doesn't  have  a 
good  look.  It's  what  the  people  says.  I  don't 
know  about  it." 

The  old  dreary,  almost  hopeless  expression, 
had  come  back  into  her  face.  For  a  moment  or 
two  Mr.  Norman  and  the  lawyer  looked  at  each 
other.  Before  either  could  reply,  the  opening 
of  the  office  door  gave  notice  of  another  visitor. 


270  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FIRE. 

A  WOMAN,  having  a  veil  drawn  closely  about 
her  face,  came  in  with  the  strong,  hasty 
step  of  one  under  the  pressure  of  some  over 
mastering  impulse.  As  she  shut  the  door  behind 
her,  she  swept  back  her  veil  with  a  swift  motion 
of  the  hand,  and  came  a  few  paces  forward. 
She  was  tall  and  erect ;  her  bearing  that  of  one 
who  had  been  roused  by  some  wrong  or  indig 
nity  into  a  desperate  resolve.  An  intense  light 
burned  in  her  large,  black  eyes,  as  she  fixed 
them  upon  Mr.  Lyman,  who  started  to  his  feet 
with  the  exclamation, 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Irwin  !   what  has  happened  !" 
"  Happened  P     A    quiver    and    curve   of  the 


FIRE. 


271 


woman's  lips.  "  Happened  !"  A  gurgling  laugh 
in  her  throat  that  sent  a  chill  through  the  law 
yer's  nerves.  "  Happened  ?  You  may  well  ask 
what  has  happened !  Wasn't  it  enough,  Roger 
Lyrnan,  that  our  poor  town  was  cursed  with 
bar-rooms  and  taverns  in  every  street  and  at 
every  corner?  But  you  must  open  a  free  saloon 
in  your  own  house,  and  invite  our  sons  and 
daughters  to  come  and  drink  at  will!  Wasn't 
it  enough  that  our  boys  were  enticed  into  dram 
shops  by  wicked  men  who  sought  to  make  gain 
out  of  their  debaucheries,  that  you  must  debauch 
them  for  nothing  ?  I  kissed  the  lips  of  my  son 
as  he  left  me  to-day,  and  his  breath  was  pure 
and  wholesome.  I  looked  into  his  eyes  and 
face,  and  they  were  bright  and  clear.  How  did 
you  send  him  home?  Dead?  It  had  been  better 
so!" 

Her  voice  had  kept  rising  as  her  excitement 
increased,  until  it  rang  out  so  strong  that  it 
could  be  heard  through  the  house,  though  the 
door  opening  into  the  hall  of  the  dwelling  was 


272  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

closed.  It  startled  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  was  sitting 
alone,  with  wet,  sad  eyes,  in  her  chamber,  and 
brought  her  hurrying  down  stairs.  Mrs.  Irwin 
saw  her  white,  alarmed  face  at  the  door,  just  as 
the  closing  words  of  this  bitter  charge  against 
her  husband  fell  from  her  lips. 

"  Yes  ;  how  did  you  send  my  boy  home  ?"  she 
cried  out,  even  more  vehemently,  as  she  saw 
Mrs.  Lyman.  Striding  forward,  she  confronted 
the  frightened  woman  with  her  fiery  eyes.  Mr. 
Lyman  was  just  in  time  to  catch  the  arm  of 
Mrs.  Irwin,  as  it  was  raised  in  a  threatening 
attitude,  and  prevent  the  blow  which,  a  moment 
after,  would  have  smitten  the  face  of  his  wife. 
As  he  took  hold  of  her,  she  struggled  and 
screamed,  trying  to  break  away  from  him.  The 
wild  outcry  brought  in  two  or  three  persons 
from  the  street,  and  with  their  assistance  he 
was  able  to  restrain  her.  Unhappy  mother ! 
Intense  in  her  love;  passionate  by  nature;  and 
not  too  evenly  balanced,  the  incidents  of  that 
day  had  been  more  than  she  could  bear.  She 


FIRE.  273 

had  seen,  with  a  fear  and  anguish  of  spirit  that 
only  a  mother  can  comprehend,  her  son,  in  the 
prime  of  his  young  manhood,  drifting  away  on 
treacherous  waters,  from  which  her  hand  strove 
vainly  to  hold  him  back ;  and  dread  had  in 
creased  until  peace  and  comfort  were  strangers 
to  her  soul.  But  not  until  this  day  had  she 
seen  her  son  stupefied  and  besotted  with  drink. 
This  was  more  than  she  could  bear.  For  awhile 
she  was  as  one  who  had  been  paralyzed ;  but 
coming  out  of  this  state,  her  mind  began  brood 
ing  over  the  fact  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyman  had 
this  day  put  temptation  in  the  wray  of  her  son, 
and  been  the  cause  of  his  fall.  As  she  dwelt 
on  this,  her  anger  against  them  grew,  until  it 
impelled  her  to  an  act,  in  the  excitement  of 
wrhich  her  reason  lost  for  a  time  its  balance 
wholly. 

Only  by  absolute  force  could  Mrs.  Irwin  be 
restrained.  After  quiet  came  as  the  result  of 
exhaustion,  her  husband  was  sent  for,  and  she 

was  taken  home. 

18 


274  THE    LAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

There  had  been,  during  the  past  two  years, 
more  than  one  memorable  day  in  the  history  of 
Brantly;  but  none  more  memorable  than  this. 
The  night  that  followed  closed  down  upon  many 
sad  and  anxious  and  troubled  hearts;  but  in  all 
the  town  were  none  sadder  or  more  troubled  than 
in  the  home  of  Koger  Lyman ;  for,  besides  the 
evil  which  had  come  upon  himself  and  his  house 
hold,  he  had  brought  evil  upon  his  neighbors ; 
and  the  stern  accusation  thereof  was  in  his  ears. 
Little  sleep  came  to  his  eyes.  How  was  sleep 
possible,  with  his  thoughts  going  after  his  child, 
adrift  with  a  drunken  man  at  the  helm  of  the 
vessel  which  had  borne  her  out  to  sea  and  away 
from  his  sight ! 

A  dark,  black  night  it  was ;  rain  falling  slowly 
through  the  dull  and  sultry  air — with  now  and 
then  a  lifting  of  the  blackness  by  a  far-off  light 
ning  flash,  the  jar  of  whose  distant  reverberations 
came  shuddering  through  the  air.  Eestless  and 
wide  awake,  Mr.  Lyman  was  startled  at  mid 
night  by  the  glare  of  a  strong  light  falling  sud- 


FIRE.  275 

denly  into  his  room.  Springing  from  his  bed  to 
the  window,  he  saw  great  flames  breaking  out 
from  the  roof  of  the  new  hotel,  and  streaming 
far  up  into  the  air.  A  deep  silence  reigned  over 
the  sleeping  town.  There  was  no  one  in  the 
streets,  and  no  sign  of  life  about  the  hotel,  though 
in  the  increasing  illumination,  every  object  had 
become  visible.  In  the  space  of  a  few  moments, 
a  dozen  windows  in  the  great  building  were 
aflame  with  an  intense  light,  and  out  of  some  of 
them  tongues  of  fire  came  leaping,  while  from 
others  rolled  volumes  of  black  smoke,  as  if  driven 
forth  by  some  strong  pressure  from  within. 

The  first  startling  cry  of  "  Fire  !  Fire  !"  which 
rent  the  stillness  of  the  night  came  from  Mr.  Ly- 
man.  It  was  so  loud  and  clear,  and  full  of  wild 
alarm,  that  it  thrilled  through  the  shut  ears  of 
almost  a  hundred  sleepers ;  and  ere  he  had 
repeated  the  cry,  almost  as  many  voices  had  sent 
it  forth  again. 

By  the  time  the  people  were  gathered  around 
the  burning  hotel,  the  flames  had  gained  such 


276  THE    BAB-KOOMS    AT    BKANTLY. 

headway  that  its  rescue  from  destruction  was 
impossible ;  there  being  no  means  in  the  town 
for  the  control  or  extinguishment  of  a  fire  like 
this.  In  the  erection  of  the  building,  tanks  had 
been  placed  beneath  the  roof,  and  large  pipes, 
leading  therefrom  with  many  openings  for  hose 
attachments,  laid  through  the  house.  But, 
strange  to  say,  no  supply  of  hose  had  ever  been 
provided.  So,  nothing  could  be  done  by  the 
towns-people  except  to  see  that  all  the  frightened 
guests  were  safely  removed,  and  then  to  draw 
away  from  the  glowing  structure,  and  stand 
silent  and  awe-stricken  as  the  flames  wrapped  it 
around  and  held  it  in  their  consuming  arms  until 
nothing  but  a  charred  and  ashen  heap  remained. 
It  was  after  midnight  when  Dennis  Fithian 
arrived  in  the  city  of  New  York ;  too  late,  of 
course,  for  any  steps  to  be  taken  towards  the 
discovery  of  his  fugitive  son.  He  had  ordered 
his  breakfast  on  the  next  morning,  and  was  sit 
ting  at  the  table  with  a  newspaper  in  his  hands, 
when  his  eyes  rested  on  the  words  :  "  GREAT  FIRE 


FIRE.  277 

AT  BRANTLY  !"  His  breath  was  suspended  as  he 
read  :  "  The  new  hotel  at  this  place  is  on  fire 
and  burning  rapidly.  It  cannot  possibly  be 
saved.  LATER.  The  hotel  at  Brantly  is  a  heap 
of  ruins." 

The  waiter  brought  Fithian's  breakfast  and 
placed  it  before  him,  but  he  did  not  lift  his  eyes 
from  the  paper,  nor  stir.  li  Anything  else,  sir  ?" 
There  was  no  response,  nor  movement ;  and  the 
waiter  passed  to  another  guest.  When  after  a 
time  Fithian  laid  his  newspaper  on  the  table,  and 
made  an  attempt  to  raise  a  cup  of  coffee  to  his 
mouth,  his  hand  shook  so  that  he  was  obliged  to 
set  it  down  untasted.  He  waited  for  several 
moments,  and  then  tried  to  lift  the  cup  again, 
spilling  a  portion  of  the  contents  in  the  effort,  but 
succeeding  in  getting  it  to  his  lips  and  swallow 
ing  several  mouthfuls.  Then  he  sat  motionless 
for  awhile  longer,  and  then,  lifting  the  cup  with 
a  steadier  hand,  drank  what  remained.  For  the 
third  or  fourth  time  he  read  over  the  dispatch, 
and  then  folding  the  paper  and  crushing  it  into 


278  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

his  pocket,  left  the  table  without  taking  any 
thing  besides  his  cup  of  coffee.  In  less  than  an 
hour  he  was  in  the  cars  and  on  his  way  home 
ward  ;  no  attempt  having  been  made  to  find  his 
son. 

A  fervent  "  Thank  God !"  went  up  from  many 
hearts  as  the  great  hotel  stood  out  in  solemn 
grandeur  against  the  midnight  sky  in  its  winding 
sheet  of  flame.  That  it  would  perish  for  ever 
from  the  earth  all  who  saw  the  fire  upon  it  knew. 
It  had  cursed  the  town  from  the  day  of  its  incep 
tion.  Would  the  curse  ever  be  removed  ?  Ah, 
is  any  curse  ever  wholly  removed ! 

The  "  Fountain  Inn,"  standing  just  over  the 
way  from  the  "  Brantly  House,"  had  been 
scorched  by  the  intense  heat  of  the  fire,  and  for 
a  time  it  was  in  imminent  peril;  but  there  were 
hundreds  of  hands  to  bring  water,  and  spread  wet 
cloths  on  the  roof,  and  extinguish  the  kindling 
flames  that  would  take  hold  where  the  burning 
brands  struck  in  falling.  But,  safe  from  harm 
stood  the  plain  old-fashioned  hotel,  to  which  the 


FIRE.  279 

new  ways  were  impossible,  and  looked  across  in 
the  dreary  morning  at  the  black  and  shapeless 
ruin  which  lay  heaped  on  the  spot  where,  when 
the  sun  went  down,  its  imposing  rival  stood. 

From  daylight  until  long  after  the  sun  went 
down,  the  office,  and  parlor,  and  porches  of  the 
little  "  Fountain  Inn,"  were  crowded  with  towns 
people,  who  eagerly  discussed  the  situation. 
Little  or  no  business  was  done,  except  by  the 
saloon-keepers ;  for  men  grew  thirsty  as  they 
talked  over  the  exciting  events  of  the  past 
twenty-four  hours,  and  made  their  way  into  bar 
rooms  to  drink  and  talk  over  affairs  and  wonder 
about  what  was  going  to  happen  next. 

A  great  many  wild  stories  were  in  circulation ; 
and  it  wras  remarkable  with  what  confidence 
they  were  related,  and  with  what  readiness  be 
lieved.  Before  night,  many  drunken  men  of  the 
lower  order  were  seen  in  the  street ;  and  some, 
who  were  of  the  better  class,  in  not  much  more 
creditable  condition  than  these.  The  very  Hood- 


280  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

gates  of  evil  seemed  to  have  been  opened  on  the 
unhappy  town. 

Among  the  stories  in  circulation  was  one  to  the 
effect  that  Mr.  Lyman  had  received  a  telegram 
from  his  daughter,  begging  him  to  come  to  her, 
and  that  her  brother  Horace  had  driven  over  to 
the  Hopewell  station  and  taken  the  cars  for  New 
York.  Another,  that  one  of  the  waiters  at  the 
hotel  had  seen  Mr.  Fithian  go  into  an  upper  room 
of  the  building  just  before  he  started  for  New 
York,  acting,  as  he  thought,  in  a  very  mysterious 
way.  Could  it  be  possible  that  the  house  had 
been  set  on  fire  in  order  to  obtain  the  insurance ! 
People  looked  at  each  other  in  blank  amazement ; 
but  with  too  ready  a  credence  in  their  eyes.  As 
for  Charley  Fithian's  misdoings,  they  were  mag 
nified  into  twice  their  real  dimensions,  bad  as 
they  were  in  fact.  Everybody  wondered  that 
his  father  had  been  so  blind ;  and  everybody 
could  have  told  him — but  they  didn't — that  the 
young  man  was  robbing  him.  Then  it  went  from 
lip  to  lip  that  Mrs.  Irwin  had  become  a  raving 


FIRE.  281 

maniac,  and  that  she  would  have  to  be  sent  to  a 
lunatic  asylum ;  that  Frank  Sylvester's  mother 
had  gone  to  bed  sick,  and  was  in  a  dangerous 
condition  ;  and  that  Mrs.  Fithian  had  been  lying 
in  a  dead  faint  ever  since  the  dreadful  news  of 
her  son's  robbery  of  his  father  had  come  to  her 
ears. 

When  the  two  o'clock  stage  from  Hopewell 
station  drew  up  at  the  Fountain  Inn,  Dennis 
Fithian,  greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  not  a  few 
who  had  actually  believed  him  guilty  of  setting 
the  hotel  on  fire,  stepped  out  among  his  neigh 
bors,  and  turned  his  haggard  face  towards  the 
smoking  ruins,  beneath  which  so  much,  if  not 
all,  of  his  fortune  lay  buried.  Some  of  them 
drew  a  little  away  from  him,  with  that  instinct 
which  causes  men  to  shrink  from  those  upon 
whom  disaster  or  misfortune  falls. 

"  Bad  business,  Fithian, "  said  one,  trying  to 
put  a  little  sympathy  in  his  voice. 

"  Hope  it's  well  insured,"  said  another. 

"Went  off  just    like  a    flash;    as   if   there'd 


282  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

been  benzine  poured  all  about !"  remarked  a 
third.  <;  Never  saw  anything  like  it." 

And  the  speaker  cast  a  meaning  glance  on  the 
group  of  people  that  stood  around.  But  Fithian 
did  not  see  the  glance  ;  nor  would  he  have 
understood  its  significance  had  he  noticed  the 
man's  expression.  He  stood  looking  at  the 
smouldering  heap  for  only  a  few  moments ;  and 
then  turning  around  with  scarcely  a  word  or 
sign  to  any  one,  strode  away,  not  taking  the 
direction  of  his  own  house,  but  going  towards 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Lyman.  The  lawyer  was 
standing  at  the  door  of  his  office  as  Fithian 
came  up ;  and  read  suspense  and  fear  in  his 
nervous  face. 

"  You  have  the  policies  of  insurance,  Mr. 
Lyman !  They  are  all  right  ?"  He  tried  to 
keep  his  voice  steady  and  assured  ;  but  his  face 
grew  paler  every  moment. 

"  Yes,  they  are  in  my  fire-proof;  but  I  haven't 
looked  at  them  for  some  time." 

"  Didn't    Charley    have    them    renewed  ?      I 


FIRE.  283 

charged  him  particularly  to  see  you  and  have  it 
done.  They  expired  in  July  !" 

"He  never  said  anything  to  me  about  it!" 

Fitliian  dropped  into  a  chair,  a  ghastly  white 
ness  overspreading  his  face. 

"  You  are  sure,  Mr.  Lyman  ?"  There  was  a 
pitiful  appeal  in  his  husky,  quivering  voice. 

"  Very  sure.  The  policies  have  not  been  out 
of  my  fire-proof  for  a  year !" 

u  Then  I'm  ruined!  ruined!  ruined  !"  And  he 
shook  like  one  in  a  strong  ague  fit;  while  the 
perspiration  fell  in  great  drops  from  his  fore 
head. 

"  Did  you  find  your  son  ?"  Mr.  Lyman  asked. 

"  No  !  Curse  him  !"  A  gleam  of  fierce  anger 
burned  across  the  face  of  the  wretched  man,  as 
he  arose  and  went  out  with  slow,  uncertain  steps. 
He  stood  for  a  little  while  on  the  pavement  in 
front  of  the  lawyer's  office,  in  a  helpless  maze, 
and  then  came  back, 

"  This  is  awful,  Mr.  Lyman  !  Awful !"  There 
was  a  wild  look  in  his  eyes,  and  he  caught  at  his 


284  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

throat  as  if  to  loosen  his  collar  and  prevent  suf 
focation.  "  Let  me  see  the  policies." 

They  were  brought  forth  and  examined. 

"  Worth  just  so  much  blank  paper  !"  And  he 
dashed  them  upon  the  floor. 


A   MOVEMENT   AGAINST   THE    ENEMY.  285 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A    MOVEMENT   AGAINST    THE    ENEMY. 

T)RANTLY  turned  over  a  new  leaf,  and  there 
was  to  be  a  new  writing  thereon  ;  and  many 
good  and  influential  citizens  said  that  the  writing 
should  be  so  and  so.  This  liquor  curse  must  be 
removed — swept  off  so  completely  that  not  a  ves 
tige  of  it  remained  to  hurt  and  afflict  the  people. 
Mr.  Lyman  was  prompt  to  act  in  the  case  of 
Mike  Kelly,  charged  with  selling  liquor  to  a 
minor.  The  court  was  in  session,  and  as  two  of 
the  judges  knew  by  this  time,  from  sad  experi 
ence,  that  few  households  had  immunity  from 
the  serpent's  bite  and  the  adder's  sting,  but  small 
delay  in  bringing  forward  the  case  was  permitted. 
As  no  lawyer  of  standing  would  have  anything 


286  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

to  do  in  defending  the  suit,  Kelly  was  rep 
resented  by  a  young  man  of  considerable  shrewd 
ness,  named  Perkins,  who  had  already  an  ex 
tensive  practice  at  the  bar ;  but  in  the  lower 
courts  of  the  district,  where  such  men  as  Mike 
Kelly,  Green,  and  McLaughlin  presided.  Mr. 
Lyman,  representing  the  prosecution,  felt  that 
he  had  everything  on  his  side.  The  charge 
made  by  Mrs.  McAlister  was  clearly  proved  by 
several  witnesses,  and  the  presiding  judge,  in 
giving  the  case  to  the  jury,  told  them  that  if 
they  were  satisfied  from  the  evidence,  which  had 
not  been  broken  down  at  a  single  point,  that 
Kelly  was  guilty  of  selling  liquor  to  a  minor, 
they  must  find  for  the  prosecution. 

One,  two,  three  hours  the  jury  remained  out 
and  yet  there  was  no  verdict.  People  became 
uneasy  and  impatient.  Perkins  was  confident 
of  winning  the  case,  and  Kelly  evinced  no  great 
concern.  The  strong  point  made  by  the  defence 
was  that  none  of  the  witnesses  had  sworn  posi 
tively  as  to  the  kind  of  liquor  they  had  seen  young 


A   MOVEMENT   AGAINST   THE    ENEMY.  287 

McAlister  drink.  It  might  have  been  soda-water, 
or  lemonade,  or  coffee,  or  tea,  for  all  they  knew ; 
unless  it  were  shown,  Perkins  had  argued,  that 
the  liquor  drank  on  Kelly's  premises  was  beer  or 
wine,  or  spirits,  a  verdict  of  Not  Guilty  must  be 
rendered.  The  charge  of  the  judge  had  been 
adverse  to  this.  He  told  the  jury,  that,  as  it  was 
the  business  of  Kelly  to  sell  intoxicating  bev 
erages,  the  fact  that  minors  were  seen  drinking 
at  his  bar,  must  be  taken  as  prima  facie  evidence 
that  what  he  had  sold  them  was  an  intoxicating 
beverage. 

There  had  been  considerable  difficulty  in 
getting  a  jury.  The  defence  not  only  objected 
to  some  of  the  best  men  in  the  town,  but  succeeded 
in  having  them  set  aside  on  one  technical  point 
or  another.  The  prosecution,  though  wary,  failed 
in  its  efforts  to  keep  out  two  or  three  men  in 
regard  to  whom  serious  doubts  were  felt.  In  the 
trial  of  the  case,  Perkins  did  not  exhibit  half  the 
interest  he  had  shown  in  the  formation  of  the 

JUI7- 


288  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

Night  came  and  still  there  was  no  verdict. 
The  court  adjourned  until  the  next  day  at  ten 
o'clock — and  the  people  were  left  in  a  state  of 
feverish  suspense.  Nine-tenths  of  the  whole 
population  were  on  the  side  of  the  prosecution. 
Even  the  men  who  were  in  favor  of  liberty  for 
themselves,  wanted  security  for  their  boys,  and 
looked  anxiously  for  a  verdict  that  would  break 
up  the  practice  of  selling  liquor  to  minors. 

Ten  o'clock  saw  a  crowded  court-room.  The 
judges  took  their  seats — and  after  the  crier  had 
announced  the  opening  of  the  court,  the  jury  were 
informed  that,  if  ready,  their  verdict  would  be 
received.  There  was  a  breathless  silence  as  the 
men  came  slowly  filing  in,  followed  by  murmurs 
of  disappointment  and  disapprobation,  when  the 
announcement  was  made  that  the  jury  were  not 
agreed — ten  being  for  conviction  and  two  for 
acquittal.  A  request  to  be  discharged  was  made, 
as  there  was  no  hope  of  an  agreement.  After  a 
brief  conference  the  judges  sent  the  jury  back, 
and  ordered  them  to  find  a  verdict.  It  was  of 


A   MOVEMENT    AGAINST    THE    ENEMY.  289 

no  use.  At  ten  o'clock  on  the  next  morning  they 
again  appeared  in  court — the  room  was  densely 
crowded — and  gave  the  same  answer  as  on  the- 
day  before — "  Not  agreed."  The  numbers  for 
conviction  and  acquittal  were  unchanged  in  their 
relations  to  each  other.  Disapprobation  was  now 
so  strongly  expressed  as  to  call  out  a  rebuke  from 
the  judges.  Again  the  jury  was  remanded;  but 
with  no  change  in  the  result.  Nothing  could, 
turn  the  two  men  from  their  purpose  to  acquit; 
and  the  court  had  at  last  to  give  an  order  of  dis 
missal. 

There  followed  a  great  deal  of  indignation 
among  the  people ;  and  a  great  deal  of  hard  talk. 
None  doubted  the  guilt  of  Mike  Kelly,  against 
whom  and  the  two  jurymen,  who  had  obstructed 
the  course  of  justice,  some  of  the  less  prudent 
made  threats  of  violence.  The  blood  of  Brantly 
was  at  fever  heat. 

As  for  Mike  Kelly,  his  narrow  escape  did  not 
come   with   the    force   of  a  warning.     He    had 
triumphed   and  was   jubilant — grew  bolder  and 
19 


290  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

more  confident  in  his  disregard  of  the  law  under 
which  he  held  his  license ;  and  openly  boasted 
that  no  jury  could  be  found  that  would  convict 
him.  In  this  he  was  in  error,  as  he  discovered 
in  less  than  two  months,  when  he  was  arrested 
for  an  offence  similar  to  the  one  on  which  he  was 
first  arraigned,  and  after  a  swift  trial,  found  guilty. 
The  court  gave  him  the  full  penalty  of  the  law — 
forfeiture  of  license ;  a  fine  of  one  thousand 
dollars,  and  a  year's  imprisonment. 

"  It  all  amounts  to  nothing,"  said  one  who  did 
not  share  in  the  general  feeling  of  triumph. 

"It  amounts  to  a  great  deal,"  was  the  answer. 
"  It  is  a  vindication  of  the  law,  and  a  warning  to 
law-breakers." 

"  A  warning  to  be  more  circumspect  in  their 
violations ;  that  is  all.  A  warning  to  plunder  in 
the  dark  and  in  places  hidden  from  public  obser 
vation,  instead  of  on  the  highway,  boldly.  A 
good  citizen  obeys  the  law  because  it  is  made  for 
the  common  welfare  ;  but  these  men  are  not  good 
citizens;  are  without  conscience;  and  care  no- 


A    MOVEMENT    AGAINST    THE    ENEMY.  291 

thing  for  their  neighbor.  So  long  as  gain  is  to  be 
had  they  will  sell  to  all  who  come — openly  where 
the  law  permits;  secretly  where  the  law  forbids. 
I  see  little  for  congratulation." 

"  Not  in  a  changed  public  sentiment,  and  a 
resolute  purpose  on  the  part  of  nearly  all  the  best 
people  in  Brantly  to  rid  the  town  of  this  curse 
of  drinkiiiff  saloons  ?" 

O 

"  It  is  easier  to  keep  well  than  to  get  well. 
Brantly  is  sick  of  a  disease  that  is  difficult,  if  not 
impossible,  to  cure.  She  was  well ;  wished  to  be 
better,  took  physic,  and " 

"  No,  sir;  Brantly  is  not  dead  yet,  nor  in  any 
mortal  extremity.  She  is  sick,  as  we  all  know ; 
but  nature  is  strong  in  her,  and  she  will  throw 
off  this  disease — cast  out  this  devil  that  is 
afflicting  her;  throwing  her  now  into  the  water, 
and  now  into  the  fire.  e  This  kind  goeth  not 
out  but  by  prayer  and  fasting ;'  and,  my  word 
for  it,  the  days  of  her  humiliation  and  suffering 
will  be  long,  if  they  ever  come  to  an  end." 

As  predicted,  the  feeling  of  triumph  and  hope 


292  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

in  the  future  that  came  with  the  conviction  and 
speedy  sentence  of  Mike  Kelly,  was  not  of  long 
duration.  All  who  wanted  liquor,  young  or  old 
— sober  or  drunken — found  little  difficulty  in  ob 
taining  it,  as  the  wives  of  intemperate  husbands 
and  the  parents  of  weak  or  profligate  boys  too 
often  discovered  to  their  sorrow.  But  proof  as  to 
where  and  by  whom  the  liquor  was  furnished 
could  rarely  if  ever  be  found.  The  evil  was 
hiding  itself,  like  a  poison  in  the  blood,  but 
working  none  the  less  virulently  because  unseen. 
Poor  Mrs.  McAlister  saw  her  boy  going  down 
step  by  step  on  the  road  to  ruin,  and  all  power  to 
hold  him  back  taken  away  from  her.  A  woman 
of  strong  feelings,  and  apt  to  grow  blindly  des 
perate  under  a  sense  of  wrong,  she  did  not  fold 
her  hands  and  sit  down  to  weep  and  mourn  in 
helpless  abandonment.  Her  deep  mother-love 
kept  her  ever  alert  and  watchful;  and  though 
her  son  had  grown  ill-tempered  and  sullen,  and 
impatient  of  the  slightest  remonstrance  or  attempt 


A    MOVEMENT    AGAINST    THE    ENEMY.  293 

to  bar  his  freedom,  she  did  not  give  him  up  nor 
cease  in  her  efforts  to  save  him. 

"You're  wanted  round  at  the  magistrate's," 
said  a  man,  as  he  came  one  morning  into  the 
office  of  Mr.  Lyman. 

"  Who  wants  rne  ?" 

"  Mrs.  McAlister." 

"  For  what  ?" 

"  To  go  her  bail.'1 

"  Her  bail  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  She  made  an  assault  and  battery 
last  night  on  a  tavern-keeper,  spoiling  his  face 
and  smashing  up  his  bottles ;  and  she's  got  to  go 
to  court  about  it." 

"Bad  business.  And  she  wants  me  to  stand 
bail?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Very  well,  I'll  be  round  in  a  few  moments." 

The  man  departed,  and  Mr.  Lyman  soon  fol 
lowed  him.  At  the  magistrate's  office  he  found 
an  ill-favored  fellow  with  his  head  tied  up,  and 
one  or  two  long  patches  on  his  face.  lie  was 


294  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BllANTLY. 

looking  angry  and  revengeful.  Mrs.  McAlister, 
like  an  animal  at  bay,  had  a  defiant  aspect.  The 
lawyer  asked  to  have  the  facts  in  the  case  re 
hearsed,  and  to  hear  the  testimony ;  but  before 
the  magistrate  had  time  to  respond  the  woman 
had  rehearsed  them  in  a  single  brief  sentence. 

"  He  sold  my  boy  whiskey ;  and  I  smashed  him 
and  his  bottles,  Mr.  Lyman." 

"  That  was  all  wrong,  Mrs.  McAlister.  The 
law  takes  care " 

"  The  law !"  intense  scorn  in  the  woman's 
voice.  "  The  law  is  for  whiskey-sellers,  not  poor, 
heart- brokin'  mothers  !  The  law  !  I'm  done 
with  the  law." 

The  magistrate  ordered  silence,  and  Mrs.  Mc 
Alister  dropped  back  into  the  seat  from  which  she 
had  arisen  ;  but  the  fierce  defiance  did  not  go  out 
of  her  face. 

"  Will  you  enter  into  recognisance  for  this 
woman's  appearance  in  court  ?"  asked  the  magis 
trate. 


A   MOVEMENT    AGAINST    THE    ENEMY.  295 

"  Yes;  and  defend  her  case  into  the  bargain." 
replied  the  lawyer. 

The  bail-bond  signed,  Mrs.  McAlister  was 
permitted  to  retire ;  which  she  did  w?ith  head 
erect  and  a  firm  step — first,  however,  taking  a 
long  look  at  the  man  whose  face  she  had  disfig 
ured  with  one  of  his  own  bottles  ;  a  look  in  which 
a  keen  sense  of  satisfaction  was  visible. 

"  It's  done  and  I'm  glad  of  it,  if  I  go  to  jail  to 
morrow  !"  was  heard  falling  from  her  lips,  even 
by  the  magistrate,  as  she  left  his  office. 

Here  was  a  new  excitement  for  Brantly,  and 
there  was  not  a  mansion  or  hovel — no  human 
habitation  in  the  town  three  years  before  could 
have  been  called  a  "  hovel" — in  which  the  assault 
of  Mrs.  McAlister  on  the  tavern-keeper  was  not 
discussed ;  and  the  general  verdict  \vas  "  Served 
him  right  I" 

In  due  course  the  trial  came  on.  The  assault 
was  proved  by  half  a  dozen  witnesses ;  and  as 
the  defence  had  nothing  to  offer,  except  the  plea 
of  great  provocation,  the  case  \vent  against  Mrs. 


296  THE    BAR-KOOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

McAlister;  the  jury,  however,  recommending  as 
light  a  sentence  as  the  court  could  give. 

"  One  dollar  and  costs." 

The  court  had  to  repress  the  outbreak  of  ap 
plause  that  followed.  The  fine  and  costs  were 
made  up  at  once  by  voluntary  contributions,  and 
Mrs.  McAlister  retired  from  the  court-room  sur 
rounded  by  more  friends  who  were  interested  in 
her  welfare  than  she  had  known  for  years. 

Thoughtful,  conservative  people,  who  saw  dan 
ger  in  the  public  sanction  of  any  open  disregard 
of  law,  were  concerned  about  this  matter.  The 
tide  of  sympathy  ran  strongly  with  Mrs.  McAlis 
ter;  and  encouragement  was  given  to  a  sugges 
tion  that  looked  to  an  organized  raid  of  some  des 
perate  women  upon  the  worst  of  the  drinking 
saloons. 

Meantime,  there  was  with  nearly  all  a  state 
of  unrest,  uncertainty,  foreboding,  or  dread  of 
coming  evil.  The  whole  moral  atmosphere  was 
cloudy,  disturbed,  and  vaguely  portentous.  The 
town  had  fallen  upon  evil  days ;  and  none  were 


A   MOVEMENT   AGAINST   THE    ENEMY.  297 

wise  enough  to  see  the  end.  Brantly  was  sick 
with  a  disease  that  was  baffling  the  skill  of  her 
best  physicians;  and  the  hearts  of  many  were 
growing  faint  with  fear. 

We  go  back  a  little.  Not  for  three  days  after 
Mrs.  Lyman  parted  from  her  daughter  did  any 
word  come  from  the  bride.  Then  a  brief  letter 
was  received  from  New  York,  in  which  Marie 
said  that  they  would  leave  on  the  next  morning 
for  Saratoga.  Now,  it  had  been  understood  that 
a  single  day  only  was  to  be  ppent  in  the  city. 
No  explanation  of  this  delay  was  given  ;  nor,  in 
deed,  any  allusion  made  to  it  whatever.  To  the 
mother's  heart,  nothing  could  have  been  more  un 
satisfactory  than  this  letter.  It  was  as  the  closer 
drawing  of  a  veil,  when  there  was  a  looking  and 
a  longing  to  have  it  pushed  aside.  "  Your  loving 
daughter,  MARIE."  What  was  it  that  held  the 
mother's  eyes  with  such  a  fixed  gaze  ?  Just  below 
the  name  on  which  they  had  rested  fondly,  a 
small  clouded  spot  seemed  all  at  once  to  make 
itself  visible.  What  was  it?  A  tear-mark? 


298  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

For  a  moment  or  two  there  was  a  catching  of  the 
breath,  and  a  pause  in  the  heart's  contractions. 
A  tear-mark  ! 

«  0  Marie  !  My  child  !  My  child !"  A  low, 
helpless  cry  broke  from  the  mother's  lips,  as 
blinding  drops  hid  the  mark  from  her  gaze. 

Two  days  of  anxious  waiting  and  then  another 
letter  ;  brief  almost  as  the  first,  but,  like  the  first, 
a  veil.  Were  any  tear-stains  upon  it  ?  None 
that  the  closely-scanning  eyes  of  the  mother  could 
find.  Two  days  more,  and  then  a  single  hurried 
line.  It  was  from  Saratoga : 

"  Only  time  to  say  that  we  are  just  leaving  for 
the  Falls." 

From  Niagara,  Marie  wrote  more  at  length, 
and  spoke  of  the  magnificent  falls,  and  the  im 
pression  they  had  made  upon  her ;  but  without 
any  enthusiasm,  or  evidence  of  real  enjoyment. 
She  said  little  in  regard  to  herself,  and  not  a  word 
about  her  husband,  to  whom  she  had  made  no 
allusion  in  either  of  her  former  letters.  In  closing 
she  said  : 


A    MOVEMENT    AGAIXST    THE    ENEMY.  299 

"To-morrow  we  shall  leave  for  Montreal,  by 
way  of  Lake  Ontario,  and  through  the  Thousand 
Islands  and  rapids  of  St.  Lawrence." 

Still  closely  veiled.  What  would  Mrs.  Lyman 
not  have  given  for  a  lifting  of  the  veil,  so  that  she 
could  look  into  her  daughter's  real  life !  Was  it 
well  with  her  ?  If  so,  would  the  sweet  assurance 
have  been  kept  back  from  the  mother's  heart  ? 
No — no — it  was  not  well  with  her ;  and  the 
mother  knew  it.  But,  was  not  silence  harder  for 
the  mother  than  the  truth;  let  that  be  what  it 
might  ?  Do  not  our  fears  always  go  farther  than 
the  truth  ?  Against  what  is,  we  fortify  ourselves, 
and  gather  up  our  reserve  of  strength — fronting 
the  evil  or  the  danger  and  measuring  its  quality 
and  force — but  against  the  unknown,  when  only 
its  coming  shadows  are  visible,  we  lift  feeble  and 
uncertain  hands,  and  take  counsel  of  our  fears 
instead  of  keeping  the  heart  calm  and  brave. 

A  whole  week  of  waiting  and  then  a  letter 
bearing  the  post-mark  "  New  York."  With  hand 
that  trembled  Mrs.  Lyman  cut  the  envelope. 


300  THE    BAR-BOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  Home  to-morrow,  mother  dear."  That  was 
all. 

And  to-morrow  came  at  last.  It  had  tarried 
on  its  way  longer  than  any  to-morrow  in  all  the 
mother's  life.  And  the  veil  was  lifted?  No,  it 
was  drawn  more  closely,  if  that  were  possible. 
Was  it  Marie's  face  into  which  she  looked  for  an 
instant,  ere  it  was  hidden  on  her  bosom  ?  Marie's 
form  trembled  like  that  of  a  frightened  bird  as 
she  held  it  tightly  in  her  arms.  What  had  she 
seen  in  the  dear  face  for  whose  return  she  had 
been  longing  with  such  a  heart-hungry  desire, 
even  though  an  aching  dread  of  what  might  be 
seen  there  was  never  absent?  What  had  gone 
out  of  it  ?  What  had  come  into  it  ?  The  old, 
dear  face ;  but  not  the  same — never  to  be  the 
same! 

Scarcely  three  weeks  gone,  and  a  change 
greater  than  as  many  years  should  have  made. 
The  shadow  that  lay  in  Marie's  eyes — not  seen 
there  before — what  was  casting  it  into  them  ? 
Gentler  and  more  quiet  in  manner  than  when  she 


A    MOVEMENT    AGAINST    THE    ENEMY.  301 

went  away ;  more  subdued  and  silent ;  and  with  a 
t hough tfulness  and  consideration  for  others  more 
apparent  than  ever  before,  she  made  upon  all 
her  friends  a  new  impression. 

Her  attitude  towards  Frank,  her  young  hus 
band,  was  something  noticeable.  It  was  as  if  an 
attractive  force,  never  broken  for  an  instant,  were 
drawing  and  turning  her  towards  him.  The 
earnest,  questioning  glance  she  was  seen  to  throw 
upon  him  when  he  came  in,  and  the  peculiar 
way  her  eyes  followed  him  when  he  went  out, 
were  things  observed  by  many,  and  spoken  of 
frequently.  They  had  a  meaning  that  soon  found 
an  easy  interpretation.  Frank  was  not  strong; 
many  temptations  were  in  his  way  ;  and  some 
times  there  was  a  slipping  of  his  unwary  feet. 

How  it  had  been  with  him  in  all  the  days  of 
that  brief  wedding-journey,  none  but  himself  and 
Marie  ever  knew.  It  was  their  own  secret,  the 
first  skeleton  which  had  found  its  way  into  the 
house  of  their  life,  and  they  shut  it  away  in  a 


THE    BAll-KOOMS    AT    BKANTLY. 

dark  closet,  locking  the  door  and  hiding  the  key 
so  that  none  might  enter  and  look  upon  the 
ghastly  sight. 

Neither  of  them  came  home  the  same  as  when 
they  went  away.  That  was  patent  to  all.  And 
it  was  still  more  patent  that  in  giving  her  promise 
to  love  and  cherish  her  husband,  Marie  had 
spoken  no  idle  words.  She  loved  this  man,  and 
she  meant  to  cling  to  him,  and  care  for  him,  and 
be  his  true  and  faithful  wife,  come  what  might. 
Before  her  marriage,  she  held  so  strong  a  faith 
in  the  power  she  would  be  able  to  exercise  when 
she  became  his  wife,  that  she  scarcely  doubted 
her  ability  soon  to  win  him  away  from  unsafe 
companions  and  from  the  dangerous  habit  that 
was  too  surely  growing  and  gaining  strength. 
Did  she  come  home  from  her  bridal  tour  with 
that  faith  the  same  ?  We  think  not.  There 
\vere  signs  that  the  old  confidence  had  received 
a  shock  ;  but  none  that  her  love  had  been  weak 
ened.  To  this  her  heart  was  true,  and  come 


A   MOVEMENT   AGAINST   THE   ENEMY.  303 

what  would  of  suffering,  and  shame,  and  humil 
iation,  she  meant  that  it  should  be  true  to  the 
end. 

Ah,  for  love  to  turn  its  eyes  into  the  future, 
and  see  no  surer  hope  nor  fairer  promise ! 


304  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    ENEMY    GAINING   STRENGTH. 

rf^HE  ruin  of  Dennis  Fithian  was  complete. 
Not  from  neglect  or  forgetful  ness  had  his  son 
failed  to  renew  the  insurance ;  but  because  at 
the  last  moment  he  was  unable  to  command  the 
five  or  six  hundred  dollars  it  would  require  to 
keep  the  policies  good.  He  had  meant  to  do  right 
about  this  matter,  but  he  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  subtle  tempter,  Floyd,  who  had  gained  an 
almost  unlimited  power  over  him.  The  money 
which  should  have  kept  the  property  safe  had 
been  drained  away,  either  at  cards  with  one  of 
his  false  friend's  accomplices,  or  for  some  foolish 
investment,  through  which  Floyd  managed  to  get 
gain,  while  the  loss  fell  upon  the  boy. 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING   STRENGTH.  305 

Of  the  sixty  or  seventy  thousand  dollars  which 
had  gone  into  the  Braritly  House,  all  was  lost. 
There  remained  only  the  ground,  with  its  desolate 
heap  of  blackened  stones,  over  which  the  wind- 
scattered  ashes  lay  like  a  garment  of  sackcloth. 
Beyond  his  interest  in  this  property  Fithian's 
possessions  were  small;  consisting  of  three  or  four 
pieces  of  real  estate,  every  one  of  them  heavily 
mortgaged.  The  debts  against  the  hotel  would 
consume  all  that  he  had  left,  and  still  be  unsatis 
fied.  All  the  carefully  gathered  wealth  of  years 
-—gathered  through  work  that  served  his  neighbor 
— lost  in  a  reckless  speculation  by  which  he  had 
hoped  for  great  gain  ;  not  caring  who  lost  or  who 
was  injured. 

None  walk  in  safety  who  walk  as  he  walked. 
It  never  has  been ;  and  it  never  will  be.  The 
green  bay-tree  may  stretch  out  its  lusty  limbs 
and  flourish  for  awhile  ;  but  some  day  when  you 
look  for  it,  out  of  the  waste  where  it  once  stood, 
the  cry  of  "  Lo  !  it  is  not,"  will  be  heard  on  the 
desolate  air.  The  road  to  wealth  that  men  build 
20 


306  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

across  their  neighbors'  rights,  infirmities,  weak 
nesses  arid  passions,  is  strewn  from  end  to  end, 
with  wreck  and  ruin.  It  is  full  of  covered  pit- 
holes  ;  and  hidden  quicksands  ;  and  sudden  de 
clivities.  The  mountains  that  lift  themselves 
above  it  are  dangerous  with  impending  land 
slides.  It  sweeps  around  jutting  crags,  and  close 
to  the  unguarded  edge  of  fatal  precipices.  Out 
of  summer  skies  fall  sudden  storms  upon  it. 
Winter  obstructs  it  in  the  mountain  passes  ;  and 
makes  its  steep  place  slippery  with  ice.  They 
who  travel  this  road  are  in  fear  of  each  other; 
are  alert  and  ever  on  guard  ;  for  the  strong  over 
ride  or  trample  down  the  weak ;  and  among  them 
there  is  no  pity  and  no  love.  No  wonder  that 
all  who  take  this  way  in  their  journey  of  life, 
find  it  a  hard  and  an  evil  way,  leading  sooner 
or  later  to  disaster. 

Let  us  move  forward  in  our  record  of  events  in 
Brantly  for  a  year,  and  see  how  the  case  stands 
after  the  lapse  of  this  period.  There  have  been 
some  changes  and  readjustments.  The  war  upon 


THE    ENEMY   GAINING   STRENGTH.  SOT 

the  drinking- saloons  has  been  steady  and  unre 
lenting;  but  the  enemy,  entrenching  itself  behind 
the  law,  cannot  be  driven  out.  Its  numbers  are 
reduced  ;  but  it  is  wary  and  circumspect,  keeping 
so  close  to  safe  limitations  that  few  charges  of 
transgression  can  be  found. 

There  was  a  time  when  it  looked  as  if  a  full 
surrender  would  be  made.  Bar  after  bar  was 
closed,  because  so  many  had  signed  the  pledge, 
and  public  sentiment,  which  wras  running  strong, 
held  so  many  more  away  from  the  saloons,  that 
the  business  did  not  pay. 

Mr.  Norrnan  found  employment  for  three  or 
four  men,  whose  alleged  necessity  had  driven  them 
to  tavern-keeping,  as  a  means  of  supporting  their 
families ;  lessening  in  so  far  the  number  of  drink- 
ing-places.  The  people  took  heart.  Step  by 
step  they  were  gaining  ground ;  and  the  promise 
of  an  early  and  complete  victory  was  strong. 

But  congratulation  was  premature.  There 
came  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  a  new  recruit. 
Driven  to  the  wall  and  desperate  in  his  extremity, 


308  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

Dennis  Fithian,  with  a  remnant  of  only  a  few 
thousand  dollars  left  of  the  comfortable  fortune 
he  had  accumulated,  turned  his  face  to  the  world 
again,  with  a  kind  of  bitter  defiance  in  his  heart, 
resolved  to  wrest  from  it  a  living,  and  another 
fortune,  if  possible,  and  this  by  any  means  that 
came  to  his  hands,  fair  or  foul,  reputable  or  dis 
reputable.  What  could  he  do  ?  How  best  use 
this  poor  remnant  ?  Over  the  ground  he  looked — 
weighed  all  the  chances — kept  his  own  counsel — 
settled  his  plans  and  went  to  work. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  here  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Norman  of  a  carpenter,  whom  he  found  one  morn 
ing  in  a  building  which  had  been  vacant  for  sev 
eral  months. 

"  Follow  instructions.  That's  about  all  I  can 
tell,  Mr.  Norman,"  was  the  carpenter's  answer. 

"  Who  are  you  at  work  for?" 

"  Dennis  Fithian." 

"  Indeed  !"  A  serious  look  crept  into  the  old 
gentleman's  face. 

"  Yes.     He's  taken  a  five  years'  lease — so  the 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING    STRENGTH.  309 

owner  tells  me.  But  he's  keeping  his  mouth 
shut  about  what  he's  going  to  do.' 

"  Have  you  the  plans  for  fitting  up  ?" 

"  Not  yet.  I'm  to  take  out  this  window  and 
door,  and  make  the  openings  larger;  and  clear 
away  the  little  back  buildings  and  sheds.  Then 
he's  to  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do  next." 

At  this  moment  Fithian  himself  made  his  ap 
pearance  on  the  ground.  There  was  an  unpleas 
ant  look  in  his  face,  and  his  manner  was  anything 
but  cordial. 

"  Good-morning,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"Good-morning."  The  response  was  more  a 
growl  than  a  salutation. 

"  I  didn't  know  that  you  thought  of  going  into 
business." 

"  And  I  didn't  know  that  you  cared  whether  I 
did  or  not,"  was  gruffly  replied. 

"  I  care  for  whatever  goes  on  in  Brantly,"  said 
Mr.  Norman. 

"  Indeed  !"  with  an  undisguised  sneer  in  his 
voice.  "  That's  your  way;  but  I've  got  enough 


310  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

to  do  to  mind  my  own  business.  I'll  let  Brantly 
alone,  and  Brantly  must  let  me  alone !" 

li  What  is  the  nature  of  the  business  you  pur 
pose  starting  ?"  asked  Mr.  Norman. 

"  I'm  not  ready  to  speak  of  that  yet.  Time 
will  show."  And  Fithian  turned  away  arid 
walked  into  the  building,  followed  by  the  car 
penter. 

"  No  good  !  No  good !"  Was  the  old  man's 
ejaculation,  as  he  moved  away,  with  his  head 
bent  down  and  his  face  clouded.  In  his  confer 
ence  with  the  owner  of  the  property  on  which 
Fithian  had  taken  a  five  years'  lease,  he  was  able 
to  glean  but  little  that  was  satisfactory.  Fithian 
had  agreed  to  make  certain  improvements  on 
this  property,  which  the  owner  was  willing  to 
accept  in  lieu  of  security  for  the  payment  of  rent. 

"  Are  the  papers  signed?"  asked  Mr.  Norman. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  you  do  not  know  for  what  purpose  the 
property  has  been  taken  ?" 

"  I  never  thought  about    that.     I've    known 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING   STRENGTH.  311 

Fithian  for  over  twenty  years.  He's  honest.  He 
wanted  to  rent  my  house,  and  I  let  him  have  it. 
That's  the  whole  story,  Mr  Norman." 

"  I'm  afraid  not." 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of?  Why  isn't  it  the* 
whole  story  ?" 

"  I  don't  like  this  secrecy.  It  has  a  bad  look. 
You  know,  and  I  know,  that  Fithian  isn't  a  man 
who  cares  much  who  loses  so  he  makes.  Suppose 
he  were  to  open  a  new  and  more  attractive  saloon 
and  restaurant  in  Brantly  than  the  town  has 
ever  seen  ?  Would  that  be  for  our  good  or  ill ;  our 
loss  or  our  gain  ?  Would  your  son  be  in  greater 
safety,  or  the  son  of  your  neighbor?" 

"  Nothing  of  that  kind  !  Nothing  !  Don't  be 
in  the  least  afraid.  Saloon  keeping  isn't  paying 
so  well  in  Brantly  that  he  should  take  a  hand  in 
it.  The  business  is  dying  out,  and  he  knows  it 
as  well  as  you  or  I.  It  is  my  thought,  that  he's 
going  to  get  a  stock  of  fresh  goods  from  New 
York." 

"  Likely ;  but  not  of  the  kind  you  imagine." 


312  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

"  You  are  too  easily  scared,  Mr.  Norman. 
Dennis  Fithian  isn't  fool  enough  to  open  a  saloon 
here  when  he  knows  that  the  tide  is  setting  so 
strongly  against  them." 

But  Mr.  Norman  was  right  in  his  apprehen 
sions.  In  a  few  weeks  it  became  apparent  to  all 
that  Brantly  must  have  a  fresh  struggle  with  the 
enemy  and  one  in  which  the  hope  of  victory  was 
not  strong.  The  changes  made  in  the  exterior 
of  the  house  which  Fithian  had  leased,  and  the 
character  of  the  fittings  up,  that  grew  into  shapely 
forms  within,  would  have  left  no  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  any  in  regard  to  the  use  to  which  it  was 
destined,  even  if  Fithian  had  not  openly  declared 
his  intention  to  establish  in  Brantly  a  house  of 
entertainment  on  a  more  elegant  and  attractive 
scale  than  had  yet  been  seen  in  the  town.  Gilt 
and  bright  colors,  and  great  strong  letters,  covered 
the  wrhole  front  of  the  renovated  building  ;  while 
above  the  roof,  a  sign  in  black  and  gold,  twenty 
fee  t  long  by  five  wide,  bore  the  single  word 
"  FITHIAN'S."  A  tall  bronze  and  gilt  post,  sur- 


THE    ENEMY   GAINING    STRENGTH.  313 

mounted  by  a  lamp  in  stained  glass  of  gorgeous 
colorings,  stood  on  the  pavement  in  front  of  the 
building  ;  and  at  the  side  of  the  door,  held  up  by 
a  projecting  bracket,  was  another  and  smaller 
lamp,  but  equally  rich  in  its  ornamentations. 
Inside  was  a  walnut  counter,  with  brass-bar 
mountings ;  and  behind  this,  mirrors  with  walnut 
and  gilt  mouldings,  and  brackets  on  which  stood 
bronzed  plaster  figures,  which  had  been  selected, 
not  by  a  refined,  but  by  a  low  and  grossly  sensu 
ous  taste.  The  walls  were  covered  with  rich 
crimson  and  gilt  paper;  and  there  were  hung 
thereon  nearly  a  dozen  pictures.  Of  these,  half 
were  poor  and  commonplace.  As  to  the  other 
half,  it  would  have  been  better  if  their  artists  had 
never  drawn  them  forth  from  the  chambers  of 
imagery. 

Besides  the  large  bar-room,  with  its  many 
tables  and  movable  screens  for  the  partial  privacy 
of  individuals  or  groups  of  friends,  there  were 
half  a  dozen  rooms  nicely  fitted  up  for  those  who 
ordered  suppers,  or  had  wine  parties;  or  who, 


314  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

for  any  cause,  wished  for  complete  retirement. 
Then,  over  a  portion  of  the  large  garden  in  the 
rear  of  the  house,  a  wide  roof  had  been  built, 
under  which  wras  a  music  stand,  seats  and  tables  ; 
and  there  was  to  be  music  here  every  evening  in 
the  summer  weather,  and  a  supply  of  ice  cream. 
Flowering  plants  and  green  shrubbery  made  this 
garden  an  attractive  place ;  and  there  was  a 
fancy  gate  opening  into  it,  through  which  all  who 
chose  could  enter  without  going  through  the  bar 
room. 

To  crown  all,  high  above  the  building  floated 
the  national  flag,  its  stars  and  stripes  half  hidden 
by  the  word  "  Fithian's,"  as  the  symbol  of  its 
desecration.  Ah,  if  our  eyes  could  lift  themselves 
to  this  beautiful  flag  and  see  upon  it  no  disgrace 
ful  symbols !  When  will  they  be  removed  ? 
When  will  it  cease  to  throw  its  protecting  folds 
over  the  enemies  of  our  people,  who  are  wasting 
their  substance  with  an  unpitying  greed  that  con 
sumes  as  the  fire  and  the  sword  ? 

There  was   scarcely  a  household    throughout 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING    STRENGTH.  315 

the  township  into  which  Fithian  did  not  manage 
to  convey  a  beautifully  illuminated  circular  adver 
tisement  of  his  "  Opening ;"  in  which  his  attrac 
tive  fancy  drinks,  his  pure  wines  direct  from  the 
importers,  his  ale  and  beer  and  fine  spirits,  and 
his  bill  of  fare,  in  which  every  delicacy  that  could 
quicken  the  appetite,  were  temptingly  displayed. 
Not  content  with  this,  he  had  his  half  column 
advertisement  in  each  of  the  county  papers  ;  and 
in  one  of  them  at  least  succeeded  in  getting  a 
long  descriptive  notice  of  his  new  establishment. 

The  immediate  result  of  Fithian's  "  Opening," 
was  the  closing  of  two  of  the  largest  and  most 
popular  saloons — popular  with  the  better  class 
we  mean.  For  some  time  the  tide  had  been 
running  against  them,  and  now  a  swifter  ebb  was 
felt.  The  flow  set  strongly  toward  Fithian's; 
and  the  ebb  threatening  to  ground  them,  their 
ships  were  abandoned. 

Some  found  hope  in  this,  and  prophesied  failure 
for  the  new  enterprise  ;  but  the  shrewder  saw 
only  an  element  of  success.  It  was  giving  to 


316  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

Fithian  a  clearer  field.  This  man,  coarse,  hard, 
and  unscrupulous,  was  yet  cunning  and  politic. 
He  had  staked  the  little  all  which  had  been 
gathered  out  of  the  wreck  of  his  fortunes,  on  this 
venture,  and  he  was  resolved  to  succeed.  He 
knew  Brantly  and  the  forces  against  which  he 
had  to  contend,  knew  the  strong  points  in  his 
position,  and  the  weak  ones  as  well,  knew  all  the 
radicals  and  all  the  conservatives ;  and  also  the 
half-hearted,  the  weak,  and  the  many  with  whom 
appetite  was  stronger  than  resolution. 

In  the  outset,  he  had  meant  to  assume  an  in 
dependent  attitude,  and,  while  acting  circum 
spectly,  to  give  no  pledges  to  the  community. 
What  the  law  gave  him  of  privileges,  he  would 
take  to  the  uttermost  limit;  and  if,  with  safety 
to  himself,  he  could  get  anything  more,  why,  he 
would  take  it.  The  law,  in  this  regard,  was  an 
outrage  at  best.  It  did  not  hedge  the  merchant, 
the  butcher  or  the  baker  about  with  restrictions, 
and  say  to  them,  you  may  sell  to  this  one  and 
not  to  the  other.  He  did  not  force  men  to  come 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING    STRENGTH.  317. 

into  his  house  and  buy  what  he  had  to  sell.  They 
were  free  to  come  in  or  to  stay  out.  But  when 
they  came  in  of  their  own  accord,  what  right  had 
the  law  to  say  to  him,  any  more  than  to  the 
baker  or  grocer,  that  he  should  not  sell  his  goods 
when  he  had  paid  for  the  right  to  traffic  in  them  ? 

So  he  thought  and  reasoned.  But  there  was 
no  use  in  setting  himself  against  what  had  been 
established.  His  wiser  course  would  be  to  make 
the  best  of  things,  and  this  he  proceeded  to  do ; 
and  he  did  it  so  shrewdly  and  so  plausibly,  that 
it  was  not  long  before  a  gradual  change  in  senti 
ment  took  place  with  many  who  at  first  saw  only 
evil  in  what  he  was  doing. 

His  business  was  perfectly  legitimate,  being 
based  on  a  common  want  of  the  people,  and  one 
that  had  existed  from  time  immemorial.  This 
was  his  first  assumption.  His  next,  that  it  was 
fully  sanctioned  under  laws  made  by  the  wisest 
men  of  the  country,  and  that  it  was  therefore  as 
fair  and  reputable  a  pursuit  as  any  other.  If 
these  wise  law-makers  saw  best  to  burden  it  with 


S18  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

large  license-fees  and  hamper  it  with  restrictions, 
all  right.  It  was  his  duty  as  a  good  citizen  to 
pay  the  license-fees  and  keep  strictly  to  all  the 
requirements  of  the  law ;  and  he  would  do  it  to 
the  very  letter. 

This  was  his  declaration  ;  made  with  ostenta 
tion,  with  suave  plausibility,  with  an  affectation 
of  concern  for  the  fallen,  and  with  lavish  protes 
tations  of  an  earnest  desire  to  restrain  the  weak 
from  excesses,  just  as  he  read  the  people  with 
whom  he  talked.  There  was  to  be  no  encour 
agement  of  drunkenness  in  his  place.  No  minor, 
no  habitual  hard-drinker,  no  man  the  worse  for 
liquor,  could  get  anything  at  his  bar.  These 
might  be  served  at  his  restaurant  with  any  deli 
cacy  on  the  bill  of  fare ;  and  with  soda-water, 
coffee,  tea,  or  milk — but  with  nothing  that  could 
intoxicate. 

Thus,  from  the  very  start,  did  Fithian  entrench 
himself,  and  make  his  position  secure ;  boldly 
claiming  that  he  was  in  favor  of  temperance,  and 
as  much  opposed  as  any  one  to  the  piratical  crew 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING    STRENGTH.  319 

of  drunkard-makers,  who  disregarded  the  law, 
debased  the  young,  and  dragged  down  the  besotted 
into  lower  deeps  of  degradation. 

Men  like  Mr.  Norman  were  not  deceived. 
They  saw  the  greater  danger  that  threatened  the 
people  ;  and  the  firmer  hold  which  the  enemy 
had  gained.  There  was  so  much  at  Fithian's  to 
attract  the  people,  young  and  old  !  The  summer- 
garden,  with  its  music,  its  pretty  fountain,  its  cool 
arbors,  and  its  refreshing  ices,  drew  scores  in  the 
warm  evenings  to  its  pleasant  retreats,  who  could 
not  from  sex,  or  would  not  from  shame  or  prin 
ciple,  enter  the  bar-room.  But  there  were  some 
— too  many,  alas ! — who  found  the  way  through 
this  summer-garden  a  most  convenient  one,  and 
doors  out  of  the  common  observation  opening 
therefrom  into  places  where  things  more  exhil 
arating  than  ices  and  sherbet  could  be  obtained. 

Fithiun  was  making  himself  popular.  From 
the  very  opening  day  the  tide  of  a  prosperous 
business  set  in.  The  sullen,  defiant  look  lately 
seen  in  his  face  had  given  way  to  a  new  expres- 


320  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

sion,  in  which  you  saw  confidence  and  self-satis 
faction.  He  carried  himself  more  firmly,  and 
walked  with  a  more  assured  step.  A  public  man 
now,  he  gave  more  attention  to  his  personal  ap 
pearance  ;  looked  more  carefully  to  the  white 
ness  of  his  linen,  the  fineness  of  his  broadcloth 
and  the  graciousness  of  his  manner.  He  learned 
to  bow  and  to  smile  ;  to  utter  compliments ;  to 
assume  an  interest  in  the  affairs  of  his  neighbors; 
to  write  his  name  on  subscription  papers ;  and  to 
make  a  show  of  charity.  Too  many  were  deceived, 
or  drawn  over  by  all  this  ;  and  it  was  not  long 
ere  one  and  Another  began  to  speak  of  him  as  a 
great  deal  better  man,  and  one  who  had  the  good 
of  the  people  more  truly  at  heart  than  many  of 
those  who  were  bitterly  opposed  to  him,  and  who 
were  doing  all  in  their  power  to  break  down  both 
his  influence  and  his  business. 

"  If  you  want  a  subscription  for  anything  but  a 
church — he  doesn't  take  much  stock  in  churches — 
go  to  Dennis  Fithian ;  you'll  always  find  him 


THE    ENEMY    GAINING    STRENGTH.  321 

ready  and  willing  to  help  in  any  good  cause." 
Or— 

''  They  may  say  what  they  will  about  Dennis 
Fithian ;  but  there  isn't  a  better-hearted  man  in 
the  town."  Or — 

"  I've  changed  my  mind  about  him.  He  isn't 
the  public  enemy  they  try  to  make  him  out. 
People  will  have  liquor,  and  it's  no  use  trying  to 
keep  it  away  from  them.  What  we  want,  is  to 
have  its  sale  in  the  hands  of  men  who  are  ready 
to  do  all  in  their  power  to  keep  it  within  safe 
limits ;  who  will  not  tempt  the  young,  nor  en 
courage  the  weak  or  intemperate.  Such  a  man 
we  have  in  Fithian.  What  looked  like  a  great 
evil  in  the  beginning,  is  going  to  prove  a  great 
good." 

So  men  began  to  say,  and  to  confirm  themselves 
by  one  specious  argument  after  another  in  this 
view  of  the  case.  The  green  bay-tree  was  strik 
ing  its  roots  deep  into  the  rich  soil ;  stretching 
out  its  limbs ;  growing  and  flourishing.  And 
good  men  saw  with  heavy  hearts  its  increase,  the 
21 


322         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

widening  spread  of  its  poison-dropping  leaves,  and 
the  blight  of  the  verdure  that  lay  beneath. 

The  enemy,  so  broken  and  discomfited  a  little 
while  before,  had  become  under  this  new  rally 
and  re-enforcement  more  surely  established  in  its 
occupancy,  and  all  that  Brantly  had  gained  in 
its  late  vigorous  onslaught  seemed  lost. 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  323 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY. 

bay-tree  went  on  growing  and  stretching 
out  its  branches,  and  increasing  the  spread 
of  its  noxious  leaves.  That  it  was  an  accursed 
thing,  not  a  few  who  had  rejoiced  in  its  planting 
had  sorrowful  evidence  ere  a  year  had  closed  its 
cycle. 

Had  Fithian  kept  faith  with  the  people  ?  Had 
he  lived  up  to  the  letter  and  spirit  of  his  license  ? 
Will  he  who  scruples  not  to  break  faith  with 
humanity  be  very  tender  of  conscience  in  his 
dealings  with  the  individual  ?  This  man  had 
proposed  nothing  to  himself  but  gain.  There  had 
not  been  in  his  heart  a  single  movement  of  will 
or  desire  that  did  not  regard  himself;  and  the 


324  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

more  self-regard  grew  the  less  cared  he  for  his 
neighbor.  Openly,  he  had  kept  to'  his  faith; 
covertly,  when  violation  was  possible  without 
danger  of  discovery  and  proof,  never !  Boy  or 
man  ;  strong  or  weak  ;  sober  or  intemperate — it 
mattered  not  to  Dennis  Fithian.  The  minor, 
flatly  refused  at  the  bar,  gained  knowledge  of 
other  ways  of  the  house ;  and  it  was  the  same 
with  men  to  whom  it  might  not  be  prudent  openly 
to  supply  the  maddening  poison  for  which  appe 
tite  craved  with  a  desire  that  grew  stronger  with 
each  new  gratification. 

As  a  hurt,  or  maimed,  or  diseased  human  body 
calls  into  action  all  its  reserve  of  vital  force,  and 
goes  on  with  its  life-work,  even  while  it  struggles 
with  an  enemy  that  is  perpetually  seeking  to  bind 
or  destroy,  so  Brantly,  wounded  and  greatly 
shorn  of  her  strength,  lifted  herself  and  began  to 
move  forward  in  the  hope  of  recovering  a  measure 
of  what  she  had  lost.  How  changed  in  almost 
everything  !  So  few  the  years  since  old,  plodding, 
contented  Brantly  tried,  in  a  spasm  of  ambition, 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  625 

to  wheel  into  line  with  modern  progress,  and  in 
a  half-blind,  half-halting  way  to  keep  step  in  the 
perilous  march ;  and  here  she  was,  thrown  back 
upon  herself,  crippled,  exhausted  and  with  a  ter 
rible  disease  entrenched  in  the  very  citadel  of 
her  life.  You  scarcely  saw,  in  all  the  town,  a 
single  face  that  wore  the  former  restful,  con 
tented  expression.  Men  and  women  had  grown 
older  by  twice  or  thrice  the  years  which  had 
actually  passed  ;  and  you  wondered,  as  you  looked 
on  one  friend  and  another,  at  the  gray  hairs  which 
you  did  not  remember  to  have  noticed  until  now. 
Foreheads,  smooth  and  placid  a  few  years  before, 
had  deep  lines  cut  into  them  ;  and  eyes  that  then 
smiled  back  every  pleasant  greeting,  rested  in 
yours  with  a  dull,  or  dreary,  or  sad  and  troubled 
expression.  Where  you  once  saw  thrift,  neglect 
and  decay  were  too  often  visible.  Many  gardens 
in  which  fair  hands  had  loved  to  train  blossoming 
vines,  had  lost  their  beauty,  and  run  to  waste ; 
and  in  homes,  once  bright  and  joyous,  the  sounds 
of  singing  and  laughter  were  no  longer  heard. 


326  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

But,  for  all  this,  Brantly  did  not  fold  her  arms 
in  weak  despair,  but  went  on  with  her  work, 
sadly  and  wearily  bending  her  neck  to  a  yoke 
she  was  unable  to  throw  off. 

One  man  in  the  town  prospered  more  than  all 
the  rest,  but  prospered  as  a  varnpire,  or  a  para 
site  ;  giving  service  to  none,  but  drawing  from 
all  upon  whom  he  could  fasten  fang  or  rootlet. 
Year  by  year  he  gathered  what  other  men  strewed, 
and  reaped  in  fields  that  other  men  planted ; 
growing  richer  at  the  cost  of  many  who  grew 
poorer.  Not  a  dollar  in  his  coffers  represented 
good  to  any ;  but  always  evil.  For  every  coin 
he  took  in,  he  gave  back  a  curse.  And  there  he 
held  himself  firmly  garrisoned,  setting  at  defiance 
open  assault  or  covert  stratagem  ;  for  the  law 
gave  him  succor  and  defence,  and  the  symbol  of 
this  powerful  ally  was  ever  seen  in  the  stars  and 
stripes  that  floated  in  the  air  above  the  place  into 
which  he  enticed  the  weak  and  unwary  to  their 
loss  and  to  his  gain. 

Did  the  people  lose  all  heart  ?     Did  they  give 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  327 

up  in  despair?  Not  so.  There  was  a  faithful 
band,  ever  watchful,  ever  on  the  alert,  ever  lifting 
up  a  warning  cry',  ever  seeking  to  guard  the  weak 
and  the  innocent,  to  raise  up  the  fallen,  and  to 
draw  many  back  from  the  dangerous  ground 
toward  which  their  feet  were  moving.  Guards 
were  thrown  about  the  young.  Boys  and  girls 
were  organized  into  associations,  pledged  to  absti 
nence  and  opposition  to  intemperance.  A  Good 
Templar  lodge  was  formed  by  some  of  the  young 
men  and  women.  A  full  supply  of  temperance 
books  was  placed  in  the  town  library  ;  and  tracts 
were  procured  and  liberally  circulated.  Frequent 
public  addresses  were  made  on  the  evil  of  drinking, 
and  all  the  clergymen,  to  their  honor  be  it  said, 
were  outspoken  against  the  enemy,  though  some 
took  offence  and  staid  away  from  public  worship  ; 
expressing  pious  dissatisfaction  at  the  ministers' 
"  intemperate  harangues  against  rum-sellers," 
when  they  had  gone  to  church  hungry  for  spir 
itual  food. 

There  was  gain  in  all  this ;  for  by  it  a  public 


THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

sentiment  adverse  to  drinking,  and  that  of  a  most 
decided  character,  was  formed  and  maintained ; 
and  large  numbers  not  only  kept  away  from  the 
saloons,  but  from  even  tasting  liquor.  The  un 
tiring  leader  in  all  this  was  Mr.  Norman.  Others 
grew  weary ;  but  with  him  heart  and  courage 
never  failed.  His  watchful  eyes  were  over  all 
the  town  ;  and  he  knew  from  week  to  week,  and 
from  month  to  month,  the  gain  or  loss.  Always 
he  took  hope  and  encouragement  in  what  was 
saved. 

"If  we  cannot  drive  out  this  enemy,  let  us 
hold  him  to  his  citadel  and  force  him  back  when 
ever  he  ventures  beyond  its  moat  or  draw." 

So  the  faithful  old  man  held  to  his  duty,  and 
with  a  vigilance  that  nothing  could  tire.  Others 
might  be  on  terms  of  social  intimacy  with  Fithian, 
who  was  gathering  back  his  thousands  again, 
and  gradually  rising  in  the  estimation  of  those 
who  are  always  ready  to  make  friends  with  the 
unrighteous  Mammon ;  but  Mr.  Norman  main 
tained  such  coldness  and  reserve  towards  him, 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  329 

that  his  attitude  was  taken  as  an  insult,  and  re 
sented.  Many  called  them  enemies;  and  in 
truth  that  was  their  real  attitude — for  he  who 
was  a  foe  to  the  people,  Percy  Norman  treated 
as  such.  As  for  Dennis  Fithian,  he  looked  upon 
all  who  were  opposed  to  him  as  enemies,  and 
hated  them  in  his  heart.  He  had  many  grudges 
against  Mr.  Norman,  who  from  the  beginning 
had  stood  in  his  way,  and  in  more  than  one 
instance  turned  him  out  of  it.  To  be  able  to 
repay  him  by  injury  he  would  have  regarded  as 
a  sweet  revenge.  But  Mr.  Norman  was  out  of 
the  reach  of  any  evil  he  might  plot  against  him. 
And  now  we  move  on  again.  It  is  five  years 
from  the  time  when  unhappy  Brantly,  just  as  she 
thought  to  achieve  a  victory,  found  herself  driven 
back  and  overcome  by  a  new  and  more  subtle  foe. 
How  has  she  fared  in  all  these  years  ?  Let  us 
gather  up  a  few  of  the  loose  threads  of  her  history 
with  which  our  readers  are  familiar,  and  tie  them 
together.  They  have  not  lost  interest  in  Mrs. 
Lyman,  nor  in  her  daughter  Marie.  What  of 


330  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

unhappy  Mrs.  Irwin  and  her  son;  of  Frank 
Sylvester  and  Horace  Lyman;  of  Mrs.  McAlister, 
arid  a  few  others  with  whom  the  reader  has  had 
brief  acquaintance?  Is  it  as  well  with  them  all 
as  when  we  saw  them  last,  or  have  the  blight 
and  the  shadow  that  were  then  falling  upon  their 
lives  grown  darker  and  deadlier  ? 

A  bleak  November  day  had  closed,  and  as  the 
night  came  down,  the  wind  grewr  and  sent  its 
sorrowful  wail  through  the  chilly  air.  It  had 
not  been  a  cheerful  day  for  Brantly,  and,  in  fact, 
her  red-letter  days  were  now  few  and  far  between  ; 
but  this  one  had  a  drearier  sky  than  usual. 
There  had  been  a  great  deal  of  bad  seed  sown  in 
her  fields,  and  it  had  sprung  up  and  been  growing 
and  growing,  the  fruit  ripening  toward  harvest, 
until  the  day  for  the  reapers  was  close  at  hand. 
About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  as  Mr.  Norman 
sat  in  the  plainly-furnished  parlor  of  the  "  Foun 
tain-Inn,"  Mr.  Lyman  entered  the  apartment. 
His  face  was  clouded.  On  seeing  Mr.  Norman, 
he  said — 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  331 

"Ah,  I'm  glad  to  find  you  here.  I  want  to 
have  a  talk  with  you." 

The  two  men  sat  down  together ;  the  lawyer's 
mariner  growing  more  serious.  Speaking  out  his 
thought  quickly  with  much  feeling,  Mr.  Lyman 
said — 

"  Something  must  be  done  about  this  place  of 
Fithian's !  It  is  ruining  our  young  men.  A 
cancer  in  a  human  body  is  not  a  more  destructive 
or  deadly  thing !" 

"  What  more  than  we  are  doing  can  be  done  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  But  is  it  not  an  awful  thing 
to  have  a  moral  pest  house  in  our  midst,  and  our 
hands  so  tied  by  the  law  that  we  cannot  remove 
it  ?  To  have  an  open  door  into  hell — and  we 
powerless  to  close  it !  I  grow  desperate  some 
times  !  You  may  thank  God,  Mr.  Norman,  that 
you  have  neither  sons  nor  daughters !" 

"  I  grieve  for  those  who  have.  I  pity  them  in 
my  heart  of  hearts.  No  new  trouble  I  hope?" 

"  A  trouble  that  is  always  as  fresh  and  sharp 
as  a  new  made  wound.  My  poor,  poor  Marie !" 


332  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

Mr.  Lyman's  voice  broke  and  quivered.  Re 
covering  himself,  he  added — 

"  And  she  is  so  patient  and  silent ;  so  true  and 
devoted ;  hiding  always  as  best  she  can  the  pain 
that  is  whitening  her  face  and  consuming  her 
flesh.  Oh  sir ;  this,  for  me,  is  a  most  bitter,  bit 
ter  thing !" 

"  Frank  has  many  good  qualities.  He  is  not 
unkind  to  Marie." 

"  He  does  not  strike  her  by  words  or  blows ; 
but  he  is  breaking  her  heart  for  all  that !" 

"  If  he  were  not  so  weak — not  so  easily  led 
away.  He  tries  to  do  better,  I  know.  But  he 
has  so  little  force  of  will;  and  appetite  is  so 
strong." 

"And  temptation  always  so  close  at  hand," 
Mr.  Lyman  answered  with  a  sigh.  Then,  with 
indignation — 

"  I  charge  it  all  on  Fithian  !  Frank  had  reco 
vered  himself,  an'd  was  doing  as  well  as  I  could 
ask;  and  Marie  was  so  happy.  We  had  the 
enemy  at  bay.  He  stood  disgraced  in  the  eyes 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  333 

of  all,  had  lost  caste  and  respectability,  was  being 
driven  into   the   lowest   and    most    degraded  of 
places;    and  there  was  a  good  prospect  of  our 
being  able  to  drive  him  out  altogether;   when 
Fithian    came   to    the  front.     What  followed    I 
need  not  rehearse.    The  people,  almost  freed  from 
a  terrible  thraldom,  were  bound  again,  and  with 
cords  of  seven-fold  thickness.     Is  it  always  to  be 
so,  Mr.  Norman  ?      For  desperate  diseases    are 
there  not  desperate  remedies  ?  the  knife  and  the 
cautery  ?     Some  of  us  are  growing  desperate.     I 
have  just  been  talking  with  Mr.  Irwin." 
"  Did  he  say  anything  about  his  wife  ?" 
"  He  saw  her  at  the  asylum  last  week." 
"How  is  she?" 
"  No  better.      It  is  so  sad." 
"  Does  her  insanity  still  keep  on  its  old  form  ?" 
"Yes.     Fithian  is  the  haunting  spectre  of  her 
diseased  fancy.     She  sees  his  hand  on  the  throat 
of  her  son,  and  begs  for  her  freedom  that  she 
may  fly  to  his   rescue.     If  she  were  my  wife,  I 
would  bring  her  home,  and  give  her  the  liberty 


334  THE    BAR-KOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

of  the  town.  Desperate  diseases,  you  know.  A 
second  aim  might  hit  the  mark." 

"No — no.     Don't  say  that." 

'•  Men  are  hung  for  killing  the  body.  Is  soul- 
murder  a  lighter  offence  against  humanity  ?" 

"  Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  will 
repay  it.  The  good  and  the  evil  that  men  do 
work  to  inevitable  compensations.  Let  us  be 
patient." 

"  The  hand  of  an  insane  mother  may  fill  the 
.  measure  of  compensation  here.  I  am  desperate 
enough  to  wish  that  it  might  be  so ;  and  some 
thing  tells  me  that  it  will  be  so." 

There  is  a  mental  atmosphere.  Thought  pen 
etrates  it,  passion  stirs  it ;  mind  by  this  medium 
communicates  with  mind  in  unseen  and  hidden 
ways — but  none  the  less  surely  giving  and  taking 
ideas,  images,  and  suggestions  that  seem  inborn, 
but  which  really  flow  into  the  soul.  Even  as  Mr. 
Lyrnan  spoke,  the  tragedy  his  thought  portended 
had  well-nigh  been  consummated. 

Five  years  in  the   new  life    to  which   he  had 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  335 

given  himself  had  not  been  without  their  marring 
effects  on  Dennis  Fithian.  He  was  no  stronger 
than  some  of  his  customers  in  the  direction  of 
appetite,  and  with  him,  as  with  them,  appetite 
grew  under  indulgence  until  it  assumed  the  con 
trol  of  a  master.  He  became  in  time  plethoric 
and  ruddy ;  being  a  good  feeder  and  an  easy 
drinker. 

But  two  or  three  years  passed  before  the  signs 
of  partial  inebriation  began  to  show  themselves 
from  day  to  day.  His  capacity  for  drinking  had 
kept  on  growing  until  he  could  imbibe  enough  to 
confuse  the  heads  of  two  or  three  ordinary  men, 
without  any  visible  effect;  but  with  him,  as  with 
others,  there  was  a  point  beyond  which  physical 
resistance  could  not  go,  and  when  this  point  was 
reached,  will-power  failed  also,  and  the  man's 
rapid  descent  began.  Up  to  this  period,  Fithian 
had  held  himself  master  of  his  business ;  pros 
pering,  because  his  eyes  saw  the  working  of  its 
machinery  in  every  smallest  part,  and  his  hand 
controlled  its  every  movement.  But  now,  circum- 


336         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

spection  began  to  fail,  and  indifference  to  creep 
in.  His  brain  lost  its  clearness,  and  the  old  alert 
bearing  gave  place  to  heaviness.  Gradually  the 
subordinates  whom  he  had  held  in  strict  order, 
and  under  the  closest  surveillance,  began  to  have 
more  freedom,  and  a  larger  control  and  discretion ; 
and  to  have  better  opportunities  for  intercepting 
some  of  the  golden  streams  that  were  flowing  into 
his  coffers.  All  the  fast  men  of  the  township, 
and  others  from  a  greater  distance,  who  scented 
the  decaying  carcass  from  afar  off,  drew  close 
about  him,  with  their  flatteries  and  their  insin 
uating  confidences.  With  some  of  these  he  joined 
in  money-making  schemes  which  in  nearly  all 
cases  proved  disastrous.  To  some  he  made  loans 
which  were  never  repaid ;  and  with  most  of  them 
he  played  at  cards — luck  in  the  long  run  going 
nearly  always  against  him. 

These  things  did  not  at  first  greatly  trouble 
Fithian.  In  his  prosperous  establishment  had  he 
not  a  mine  of  wealth  ?  What  were  a  few  dollars 
lost  to  the  many  that  were  constantly  coming  in  ! 


THE   BLIGHT   ON    BRANTLY.  337 

Had  all  gone  smoothly  in  this  business  of 
gathering  where  others  had  strewn  ?  Not  entirely. 
Unpleasant  incidents  were  of  too  frequent  occur 
rence.  Men  excited  by  liquor  are  not  always 
under  complete  self-control ;  and  passions  set  on 
fire  of  hell  blazed  out  sometimes  into  violence. 
There  were  assaults  now  and  then,  of  so  serious 
a  nature  as  to  bring  the  participants  into  court ; 
and  demands  for  liquor  from  half-intoxicated  men 
who,  on  denial,  became  angry  and  vicious,  and 
sometimes  murderous  in  their  fury.  Many  times 
in  these  years  had  Fithian  been  assailed,  both  by 
ton  true  and  hand.  Bitter  denunciations,  and 
glasses  and  bottles  as  well,  had  been  hurled  at 
him.  Knives  had  been  drawn  ;  pistols  snapped 
in  his  face  ;  and  once  a  bullet  lifted  the  hair  that 
lay  against  his  temple. 

This  last  happened  about  two  years  after  he 
had  opened  his  saloon,  and  the  hand  that  held 
the  weapon  from  which  the  bullet  came  was  that 
of  Mrs.  Irwin.  The  partial  derangement  of  mind 
into  which  this  lady  was  thrown  after  Marie  Ly- 
22 


338  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

man's  wedding,  so  shocked  and  alarmed  her  son 
Henry,  who  was  very  fond  of  her,  that  he  gave 
her  the  most  solemn  assurances  that  he  would 
never  again,  in  all  his  life,  touch  or  taste  intox 
icating  drinks  of  any  kind  ;  and  for  over  a  year 
he  kept  so  true  to  this  promise  that  his  mother's 
heart  regained,  in  a  large  measure,  its  old  confi 
dence,  and  her  mind  its  even  balance.  Still,  the 
fear  which  had  once  been  an  overmastering  terror 
haunted  her  from  a  distance.  Fithian's  new 
drinking  saloon  was  the  cloud  in  her  sky  that 
diminished  its  brightness.  Mothers  whom  she 
knew  were  troubled  about  their  sons.  This 
young  man  and  that  were  spoken  of  in  her  pres 
ence  as  going  there  too  often  ;  and  her  own  eyes 
saw  in  the  faces  of  many  who  had  grown  up  with 
her  own  boy  the  sad  signs  of  increasing  dissipa 
tion.  What  if  he  should  fall  again !  Ever 
present  with  her  was  the  sad  conviction  that  if 
this  should  occur  it  would  be  more  than  she  could 
bear.  She  grew  jealous  and  watchful ;  fear  be- 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  339 

coming  morbid,  until  it  began  again  to  disturb 
the  balance  of  reason. 

Whether  there  was  ground  for  her  first  sus 
picion  or  not,  it  became  impressed  on  the  mind 
of  Mrs.  Irwin  that  her  son,  who  often  went  to 
Fithian's  ice-cream  garden  in  company  with 
young  lady  friends  during  the  warm  summer 
season,  did  not  confine  his  visits  to  the  garden. 
Having  once  got  a  lodgment  in  her  brain,  this 
idea  held  its  place  there.  She  observed  him  with 
a  more  careful  scrutiny.  Her  eyes  were  upon 
him  in  his  goings  out  and  his  comings  in.  She 
noted  when  he  spoke  of  his  companions  or  friends, 
and  if  she  were  not  familiar  with  the  character 
and  habits  of  any  of  them,  made  early  inquiry, 
and  possessed  herself  of  all  that  could  be  learned 
about  them.  Henry  Irwin  grew  restless,  and 
being  quick-tempered,  often  impatient,  and  some 
times  angry,  under  this  perpetual  watchfulness 
of  his  mother ;  and  the  more  so  when,  as  hap 
pened  after  the  lapse  of  a  year,  there  was  ground 
for  her  suspicions  and  her  fears. 


340  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

Dreading  the  effect  upon  his  mother,  should 
she  discover  the  fact  that  even  in  a  single  in 
stance  he  had  broken  the  solemn  pledges  given 
her.  the  young  man,  in  yielding  to  the  perpetual 
enticements  and  solicitations  to  which  he  was 
subjected  in  his  association  with  friends,  indulged 
at  first  with  great  prudence,  and  only  when  the 
pressure  on  him  was  stronger  than  usual.  But 
the  ice  once  broken,  his  feet  began  to  sink  into 
the  treacherous  waters  that  lay  beneath. 

One  night,  on  coming  home  rather  later  than 
usual  —  he  had  been  at  Fithian's  with  some 
young  friends — his  mother  met  him  at  his  cham 
ber  door,  and  gave  him  a  kiss.  By  the  light 
of  the  hall  lamp  he  could  see  her  face,  as  she 
drew  back  her  lips  and  fixed  her  eyes  upon  him. 
In  all  his  after  life  he  never  forgot  their  ex 
pression,  though,  at  the  moment,  his  confused 
brain  and  annoyed  feelings  prevented  him  from 
taking  in  their  full  meaning.  She  did  not  speak, 
nor  lay  her  hand  upon  him,  nor  make  any  sign; 
only  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  turn- 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  341 

ing  away,  went  swiftly  and  silently  to  her  own 
room,  vanishing  like  a  ghost. 

Mrs.  Irwin  was  absent  from  the  breakfast-table 
on  the  next  morning.  She  was  not  sick — did 
not  complain  of  anything — only  lay  very  still, 
with  shut  eyes,  answering  no  questions.  The 
meaning  of  this  none  knew  except  her  son.  But 
in  his  knowledge  lay  no  suggestion  of  a  remedy. 
When  breakfast  was  over  he  went  away  without 
going  up  to  see  his  mother.  On  returning  at  din 
ner-time,  he  learned  that  she  had  not  yet  risen, 
nor  taken  food,  nor  answered  any  questions  that 
had  been  addressed  to  her.  All  the  family  were 
in  trouble  about  her  strange  condition  ;  the  more 
especially  so  because  of  the  mental  aberration 
into  which  she  had  once  fallen.  The  young 
man's  anxiety  and  distress  of  mind  were  very 
great.  On  him  lay  the  responsibility  of  all  this  ; 
though  none  knew  it  but  himself  and  his  heart- 
stricken  mother.  Going  to  her  room,  he  found 
her  lying  with  her  face  so  hidden  among  the  pil 
lows  that  only  one  of  her  white  temples,  with  its 


342  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

network  of  blue  veins,  was  visible.  He  sat  down 
beside  her;  but  she  did  not  stir,  nor  seem  to  ob 
serve  his  presence.  He  touched  his  lips,  with  a 
loving  pressure,  to  the  fair,  uncovered  temple, 
and  said — 

"  Mother  !  Mother  dear !"  speaking  with  all 
the  tenderness  he  could  gather  into  his  voice. 
Slowly  the  face  was  turned ;  slowly  the  eyes 
were  opened.  He  read  an  infinite,  sorrow  in  the 
long,  long  look  that  was  fixed  upon  him.  He 
kissed  her  again,  with  a  passionate  fervor  ;  and 
again  uttered  her  name  in  tones  of  the  tenderest 
pathos.  But  the  aspect  of  her  face  did  not  change, 
nor  the  sorrow  go  out  of  her  eyes.  "0  mother, 
mother !"  he  cried  in  a  voice  full  of  anguish  and 
self-reproach.  "  Why  don't  you  speak?  This 
will  kill  me  !  Mother  !  Dear,  dear  mother !" 

Slowly  she  lifted  her  arms,  and  closing  them 
about  her  son's  neck,  drew  his  head  down  until 
his  face  rested  against  hers.  For  the  space  of 
many  seconds  she  held  him  tightly.  On  releas 
ing  her  hold,  she  pushed  him  a  little  way  off,  so 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  343 

that  she  could  look  into  his  face.  Tears  were 
now  flowing  into  her  eyes  and  blinding  her ;  and 
she  was  beginning  to  tremble  violently.  Then 
came  a  paroxysm  of  sobbing  and  weeping,  and 
then  a  calmer  state,  in  which  a  measure  of  self- 
control  was  reached. 

In  the  evening,  Mrs.  Irwin  was  with  her  family 
again ;  but  all  could  see  that  something  had  gone 
out  of  her  life. 

For  two  or  three  months  after  this,  Henry 
Irwin,  whose  love  for  his  mother  was  very  strong, 
did  not  once  go  to  Fithian's,  though  many  times 
invited  by  his  young  friends  to  join  them  there 
in  oyster  or  game  suppers.  As  time  wore  on, 
the  restraints  to  which  he  was  subjecting  him 
self  became  more  and  more  distasteful;  while 
the  resolutions  he  had  made,  and  the  solemn 
assurances  he  had  given  to  his  mother,  were 
steadily  losing  their  binding  force.  At  last  he 
yielded  to  the  perpetual  drawing  attraction,  and 
let  his  feet  pass  over  the  threshold  he  had  vowed 
never  again  to  cross.  But  he  was  very  careful 


344  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

about  drinking,  and  confined  himself  to  a  single 
glass  of  beer  or  light  wine.  Not  that  he  was  in 
any  fear ;  for  he  felt  strong  in  his  ability  to  keep 
.within  the  bounds  of  a  safe  moderation.  He  was 
only  concerned  for  his  mother ;  and  in  dread  of 
what  might  follow  if  she  learned  the  truth.  The 
first  step  taken,  and  without  discovery,  it  was 
not  a  great  while  before  Henry  Irwin  was  once 
more  a  frequent  visitor  at  Fithian's,  though 
rarely,  if  ever,  in  the  daytime ;  and  several  more 
months  passed  ere  the  mother's  suspicions  were 
again  aroused.  This  would  not  have  been  the 
case  had  she  not  fallen  into  a  dull,  dreamy  and 
almost  listless  state  of  mind,  verging  on  to  indif 
ference.  She  would  keep  her  room  for  days  some 
times,  sitting  with  idle  hands,  her  eyes  heavy 
and  absent  in  their  expression,  and  then  come 
back  again  into  the  common  sphere  of  the  house 
hold  with  a  degree  of  her  old  earnest  life — but 
with  each  lapse  and  return  there  was  a  percepti 
ble  failure  in  the  force  of  this  degree. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  when  we  consider  the 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  345 

strong  affection  borne  by  Henry  Irwin  for  his 
mother — and  when  we  consider  also  the  fact 
that  a  discovery  by  her  of  his  broken  promise 
must  almost  surely  destroy  the  trembling  balance 
of  her  reason — the  young  man  had  not  the 
strength  of  will  required  to  resist  the  temptations 
that  met  him  in  the  way. 

But  his  mother  could  not  always  remain  in 
ignorance.  The  time  must  come  when  the  veil 
would  drop  away  and  that  which  her  heart  most 
dreaded  stand  before  her.  At  any  moment  it 
might  fall:  a  word,  a  breath,  a  careless  hand — 
anything  might  do  the  work.  And  in  this  wise 
it  was  done  : 

Three  or  four  mothers  sat  together — mothers 
with  grown-up  sons.  Their  faces  were  serious. 
Said  one,  speaking  with  a  strong  pulse  of  feeling 
in  her  voice  : — 

"  If  I  were  a  man,  and  that  miserable  wretch 
Fithian  sold  liquor  to  my  son,  I'd  warn  him  first, 
and  if  he  took  no  heed  of  my  warning,  I'd " 

She  did  not  finish    the  sentence.     But  there 


346  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

was  a  burning  fire  in  her  face,  and  a  gleam  in 
her  eyes.  Something  had  wrought  her  into  a 
fierce  and  desperate  passion. 

Said  another : — 

"  None  of  our  boys  are  safe.    Yours  nor  mine." 

She  was  looking  towards  Mrs.  Irwin  as  she 
spoke,  for  this  lady  made  one  of  the  company. 

"  My  son  never  goes  there/'  said  the  latter,  a 
faint  smile  touching  her  lips. 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so,"  was  remarked,  with 
a  doubt  in  the  speaker's  voice. 

"  Who  says  he  goes  there  ?"  cried  Mrs.  Irwin, 
her  manner  becoming  instantly  disturbed. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  most  of  our  sons  are  in  the 
habit  of  going  to  Fithian's ;  there  is  so  much  to 
entice  them,"  said  the  other. 

An  effort  was  now  made  to  change  the  subject ; 
for  the  weak  condition  of  Mrs.  Irwin's  mind  was 
known  to  each  of  the  little  company;  and  also 
the  causes  originally  leading  thereto.  But  it  was 
too  late.  All  at  once,  the  mother's  feeling  of 
security  was  lost;  and  with  a  persistence  that 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  347 

could  not  be  evaded  or  set  aside,  she  put  question 
after  question,  and  extorted  answers  that  left  her 
in  no  doubt  that  her  son  had  broken  the  promise 
on  which  her  happiness,  if  not  her  reason,  hung. 

"  Henry  is  in  no  danger/'  said  one,  trying  to 
assure  her.  "  I've  heard  him  spoken  of  as  among 
those  who  drink  very  sparingly." 

"  His  clear  eyes  and  clear  complexion  tell  all 
that  we  want  to  know  about  him,  Mrs.  Irwin," 
spoke  up  another. 

"  All  are  in  danger  while  that  door  to  death 
and  hell  stands  open  !"  said  the  lady  who  had 
in  the  beginning  denounced  Fithian. 

The  heat  of  her  indignation  burned  once  more 
in  her  face. 

"  While  he  lives  and  prospers,"  she  went  on, 
"  there  is  no  safety  for  our  sons.  I  wonder  that 
God  does  not  strike  him  dead  !"  A  fierce  gleam 
was  in  her  eyes  again. 

It  was  noticed  that  Mrs.  Irwin,  who  was  bend 
ing  eagerly  toward  the  speaker,  grew  calmer,  and 
that  the  expression  of  her  face  changed  rapidly. 


348  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

"  That  one  man  should  have  the  power  to 
blight  and  blast ;  to  ruin  our  boys  and  break  our 
hearts !"  continued  the  speaker,  her  indignation 
still  rising.  "  But  what  cares  he  for  ruined  lives., 
or  the  breaking  of  mothers'  hearts  ?  He  crushes 
them  under  his  feet  with  as  little  concern  as  if 
they  were  dead  leaves  !  Is  there  no  remedy  ;  no 
redress  ?  Must  we  stand  still  and  let  this  awful 
thing  go  on  ?  Is  no  hand  strong  enough  to  stay 
the  curse,  or  srnite  the  destroyer  ?  If  men  will 
not  meet  the  issue,  if  they  are  too  weak  or  too 
cowardly  to  take  this  wretch  by  the  throat,  then 
some  woman's  hand  must  do  the  work  !" 

Dennis  Fithian  stood  just  in  front  of  the  coun 
ter  in  his  bar-room,  talking  with  two  or  three 
men,  one  of  whom  was  Henry  Irwin.  It  was  an 
unusual  thing  for  this  young  man  to  visit  the 
saloon  except  in  the  evening ;  and  even  then  he 
was  rarely  to  be  seen  in  the  public  bar-room.  On 
the  present  occasion  he  had  gone  in  on  the  invi 
tation  of  a  friend.  He  was  not  feeling  just  right 
about  it,  for  the  dread  was  always  on  his  mind 


THE    BLIGHT    OX    BRANTLY.  349 

lest  his  mother  should  see  him  if  he  ventured  to 
go  in  or  out  of  the  saloon  in  the  daytime.  He 
was  standing  with  his  back  toward  the  door, 
when  he  heard  it  open  and  shut;  at  the  same 
moment  he  saw  a  look  of  surprise  and  alarm  in 
Fithian's  face.  An  instant  more  and  the  sharp 
report  of  a  pistol  rang  through  the  room,  the  ball 
just  grazing  the  saloon-keeper's  head  and  shat 
tering  one  of  the  mirrors  that  lined  the  bar. 

Before  the  young  man  could  turn  to  see  who 
had  fired  this  shot,  he  heard  the  name  of  his 
mother  in  a  startled  cry.  For  an  instant  only 
did  he  see  her  wild  face.  The  pistol  dropped 
from  her  hand,  and  she  fied  back  through  the 
door  by  which  she  had  entered.  Following,  he 
saw  her,  as  he  gained  the  street,  flying  homeward 
with  the  swiftness  of  a  hunted  animal. 

Of  what  came  after,  the  intimation  has  already 
been  given.  The  mother's  reason  had  been  dis 
turbed,  and  her  aberration  was  of  a  nature  that 
made  personal  restraint  absolutely  necessary.  As 


350  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

this  could  not  be  secured  at  home,  no  alternative 
but  her  removal  to  an  asylum  remained.  Always 
present  to  her  diseased  imagination  was  the  peril 
of  her  son.  She  saw  him  in  the  hands  of  a  rob 
ber,  who  was  threatening  his  life ;  and  she  was 
ever  trying  to  get  away  in  order  that  she  might 
go  to  his  rescue.  It  required  the  utmost  vigi 
lance  to  prevent  her  escape.  Whenever  an  op 
portunity  occurred,  she  would  take  a  knife  from 
the  table  and  conceal  it  in  her  bed  or  about  her 
person.  If  a  pair  of  scissors  were  missed  from 
the  work-room,  search  was  usually  made  in  the 
apartments  of  Mrs.  Irwin,  and  the  article  in 
nearly  all  cases  would  be  found  there. 

The  months  went  by,  and  made  themselves 
up  into  years.  Still  the  mother's  shattered  rea 
son  was  not  restored ;  and  still  insanity  held  to 
the  original  form.  The  visits  of  her  son  were 
always  followed  by  such  violent  paroxysms  that 
the  physician  in  charge  of  the  institution  in  which 
she  was  confined  had,  at  last,  to  interdict  them 


THE    BLIGHT    ON    BRANTLY.  351 

altogether.  The  joy  of  his  presence  would  be 
turned  into  the  wildest  fear  and  anguish  when 
he  left  her ;  for  she  saw  him  going  back  into  the 
power  of  a  cruel  enemy  who  was  seeking  his 
life. 


352  THE   BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

RETRIBUTION. 

the  bleak  November  day  mentioned  in  our 
last  chapter — one  of  the  days,  not  of  the  red- 
letter  kind,  which  made  themselves  memorable 
in  Brantly — Dennis  Fithian,  on  whom  five  years 
had  left  many  unsightly  marks,  passed  from  his 
residence  and  walked,  with  head  bent  and  eyes 
upon  the  ground,  slowly  along  the  street  in  the 
direction  of  his  saloon.  The  old  confident  swag 
ger  and  firm  tread  were  gone.  Intemperate  eat 
ing  and  drinking  had  produced  their  sure  result — 
disease ;  and  gambling,  neglect  of  business,  and 
the  treachery  of  parasites  and  false  friends,  had 
wrought  quite  as  disastrously  on  his  fortunes. 
And  what  of  the  home-life  of  this  man,  whose 


RETRIBUTION.  353 

baleful  shadow  rested  like  a  pall  of  death  on 
many  homes  that  but  for  him  might  have  been 
full  of  sunshine?  He  had  just  parted  from  his 
daughter — once  he  had  been  very  proud  of  her 
beauty ;  and  taking  the  usual  capacity  of  such 
men  for  loving  anything  out  of  themselves,  al 
ways  fond  of  her.  More  than  three  years  before 
this  time  she  was  married  to  a  young  man  of 
good  family,  then  a  clerk  in  one  of  the  largest 
stores  in  town.  Her  father  gave  the  young  couple 
a  house,  neatly  furnished,  and  they  began  life 
with  a  pleasant  outlook.  But  the  temptation  set 
by  Fithian  in  the  way  of  other  young  men  was 
as  close  to  the  feet  of  his  son-in-law  as  to  theirs, 
and  the  danger  was  as  great  for  him  as  for  them ; 
nay,  even  greater  than  in  many  cases.  That  he 
was  .not  strong  enough  to  resist  the  influences  to 
which  he  was  exposed  is  hardly  a  matter  of  sur 
prise. 

He  had,  as  we  have  said,  just  parted  from  his 
daughter.    What  was  the  image  held  in  his  mind 
as  he  walked,  with  stooping  shoulders  and  eyes 
23 


354  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

cast  down  ?  That  of  a  pale,  sad-faced  woman, 
with  wet,  hopeless  eyes,  bending  over  a  baby 
which  lay  across  her  lap.  She  had  left  her  own 
home  and  returned  to  her  father's  house,  be 
cause  of  personal  violence  at  the  hands  of  her 
husband,  in  his  nightly  fits  of  drunken  insanity, 
of  which  none  knew  but  herself.  And  there  was 
another  image — that  of  a  woman  on  whose  face 
there  had  not  been  a  smile  for  years,  and  in 
whose  eyes  he  could  read  only  sorrow  and  rebuke. 
Where  was  her  son  ?  Had  she  looked  upon  him 
in  all  the  long  weary  years  since  that  day  when 
a  knowledge  of  his  errors  and  his  crimes  came  so 
near  breaking  her  heart  ?  Once,  and  once  only 
— whether  in  a  dream  or  in  full  wakefulness — 
whether  in  vision  of  bodily  presence,  it  was  more 
than  she  could  sometimes  tell.  But  whatever 
the  doubt,  the  scene  her  memory  held  never  lost 
its  painful  distinctness.  She  remembered  the 
opening  of  the  door,  and  the  pitiful  object  that 
stood  therein ;  the  sick,  wan  face  ;  the  haggard 
eyes;  the  outstretched,  appealing  hands.  And 


RETRIBUTION.  355 

she  remembered,  also,  the  storm  of  execration 
that  fell  upon  this  object;  arid  how  it  vanished 
from  her  sight  as  suddenly  as  it  had  appeared, 
and  was  never  seen  again  !  Poor  mother  ! 

Dennis  Fithian  walked  on,  with  form  stooping 
and  eyes  upon  the  ground.  He  was  feeling  more 
wretched  than  usual.  Wretched  ?  Yes  ;  for  the 
time  of  his  sowing  was  past,  arid  he  was  now 
reaping  his  field  and  gathering  in  his  harvest 
of  tares.  Health  was  broken  by  excesses ;  the 
sunshine  had  long  since  gone  out  of  his  life  and 
his  home  ;  and  the  fortune  he  had  been  building 
in  the  past  five  years  out  of  the  waste  of  other 
men's  substance,  was  crumbling  like  a  house 
whose  foundations  had  been  laid  in  the  sand. 

He  had  walked  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  distance 
from  his  residence  to  his  saloon,  when  the  sudden 
cry  of  voices  in  the  street  caused  him  to  lift  his 
eyes  from  the  ground.  As  he  did  so,  he  saw  a 
woman  advancing  rapidly  from  the  direction  of 
his  bar-room,  at  the  door  of  which  two  or  three 
men  stood  looking  after  her  in  much  apparent 


356  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

excitement.  Before  he  had  time  to  think,  or 
question  as  to  the  meaning  of  all  this,  the  woman 
had  reached  him,  and  he  saw  with  a  sudden  sense 
of  weak  terror,  a  face  he  knew  too  well — that  of 
Mrs.  Irwin.  Ere  he  could  lift  his  arm  in  defence 
she  had  struck  at  him  with  a  knife  which  she 
carried  in  one  hand,  and  which  until  now  had 
been  concealed  under  her  shawl.  Fortunately, 
the  blade  only  penetrated  his  clothing,  and  before 
she  could  repeat  the  blow,  he  had  time  to  catch 
the  hand  upraised  a  second  time,  and  hold  it 
firmly  until  help  came. 

An  incident  like  this  could  not  happen  without 
the  knowledge  thereof  passing  through  the  town 
with  an  almost  electric  quickness.  Mrs.  Irwin, 
who  had  escaped  from  the  asylum  and  made  her 
way  to  Brantly,  none  knew  how,  was  taken  to 
her  home ;  and  Fithian,  in  a  tremor  of  agitation 
which  he  could  not  repress,  made  a  hurried  retreat 
to  his  bar-room,  where  he  steadied  his  nerves 
with  large  draughts  of  brandy  and  water.  A 
crowd  of  people  carne  pressing  into  the  saloon, 


RETRIBUTION.  357 

for  a  hundred  rumors  were  in  the  air ;  it  being 
said,  among  other  things,  that  Fithian  had  been 
severely  and  fatally  wounded. 

Mr.  Norman  and  Mr.  Lyman  were  still  talking 
when  a  man  rushed  into  the  "Fountain  Inn," 
crying  out  that  Dennis  Fithian  had  been  stabbed 
by  a  woman.  As  they  gained  the  street,  they 
saw  people  running  from  all  directions — men 
and  women  as  well,  the  crowd  moving  toward 
Fithian's  saloon.  There  was  loud  talking  and 
eager  questions  and  great  excitement. 

"What's  the  matter?"  cried  a  woman,  who 
came  running  with  the  crowd.  "  Who's  killed  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  any  one  is  killed,  Mrs. 
McAlister.  But  they  say  Fithian's  been  stabbed 
by  Mrs.  Irwin,"  answered  Mr.  Lyrnan. 

"  No !"  breathed  out  in  a  tone  of  strong  sur 
prise,  as  the  woman  drew  back  a  step. 

u  That's  what  they  say." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  McAlister  underwent  rapid 
changes. 

u  And  it  was  for  her  boy  !"     Her  breath  came 


358  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

stronger  still.  Her  hands  and  arms  worked  ner 
vously,  her  eyes  dilated.  "  Just  for  her  boy  !" 

Then  she  caught  hold  of  the  lawyer,  and  put 
ting  her  face  close  to  him  said,  in  a  low,  hoarse 
whisper — 

"  She  isn't  right  in  her  head,  ye  know,  Mr. 
Lyman.  And — and — there's  some  of  the  rest  of 
us  poor  mothers  as  isn't  right  in  our  heads  with 
the  shame  and  sorrow  of  these  saloons  !" 

There  was  that  in  the  woman's  face  which  gave 
Mr.  Lyman  a  feeling  of  alarm.  He  knew  some 
thing  of  her  desperate  character.  Not  alone  in 
the  case  we  have  already  recited  had  he  been 
called  upon  .to  defend  Mrs.  McAlister  in  court. 
In  the  years  which  had  gone  since  then,  she  had 
been  in  the  hands  of  the  law  for  assault  and 
battery  on  one  tavern-keeper,  and  another  who 
sold  liquor  to  her  son  and  her  husband  for  nearly 
a  score  of  times;  and  as  her  husband  had  become 
a  common  drunkard,  and  she  bad  given  warning 
in  person  to  every  saloon-keeper  in  town  not  to 
sell  him  drink,  and  as  her  son,  though  now  of 


RETRIBUTION.  359 

age,  was  following  too  closely  in  his  father's 
footsteps,  she  usually  came  off  with  a  "  Not 
guilty  "  from  the  jury,  or  with  a  small  fine  from 
the  court  where  the  case  was  unusually  aggra 
vated.  The  fine  was  always  promptly  made  up ; 
so  that  she  had  really  no  punishment  for  her 
breach  of  the  peace. 

Mrs.  McAlister  Had  become,  as  will  be  seen 
from  this,  a  terror  to  most  of  the  saloon-keepers, 
many  of  whom,  to  be  rid  of  her,  refused  to  sell 
liquor  to  either  her  husband  or  her  son.  But  for 
all  that,  they  both  came  home  too  often  sadly 
under  its  influence ;  whenever  this  occurred,  she 
would  set  to  work  to  discover  the  place  where 
drink  was  obtained,  and  if  the  proof  were  satis 
factory  a  visitation  was  sure  to  follow. 

Efforts  were  often  made  by  Mr.  Norman  and 
others  to  lead  her  son  into  a  better  life.  But  the 
young  man  had  inherited  from  his  father  a  de 
praved  taste,  and  this  had  gained  so  .great  power 
over  him  by  early  indulgence  that  his  poor,  half 
hearted  resolutions  were  not  strong  enough  to 


360         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

keep  him  away  from  the  dram-shops.  This  life 
of  trouble,  and  grief  and  inordinate  excitement, 
was  making  a  wreck  of  the  unhappy  mother  • 
and  when  she  said  to  Mr.  Lyman ;  "  There's 
some  of  the  rest  of  us  poor  mothers  as  isn't  right 
in  our  heads,  with  the  shame  and  the  sorrow  of 
these  saloons,"  and  he  saw  the  wild  look  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  strong  fierce  purpose  that  was 
quivering  in  her  face,  he  felt  alarmed  and  anxious 
lest  a  thought  of  murder  had  been  thrown  into 
her  mind. 

"  You'd  better  go  home,  Mrs.  McAllister,"  he 
said.  "  These  things  excite  and  worry  you  too 
much." 

"  He  isn't  hurt,"  remarked  a  man,  who  came 
up  at  this  moment.  "  He  made  a  narrow  escape. 
The  knife  struck  on  one  of  his  ribs,  but  didn't 
even  break  the  skin." 

"  Was  it  Mrs.  Irwin,  true  and  sure  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  McAlister  eagerly. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  she  missed  him  again  ?  Poor  thing  !  If 


RETRIBUTION.  361 

she'd  only  had  my  arm  !"  Arid  the  woman  lifted 
her  hand  and  struck  it  down  with  violence. 

"  And  they'll  take  her  back  to  the  mad-house 
again,  poor  thing!  Poor  thing !"  her  voice  sink 
ing  to  a  pitiful  tone.  Then  with  a  stronger  and 
more  impulsive  utterance,  "  There's  some  of  us 
not  in  the  mad-house  yet !"  As  she  said  this 
she  broke  away,  and  went  rapidly  down  the 
street,  taking  the  direction  of  Fithian's.  Pressing 
through  the  crowd,  and  pushing  men  this  way 
and  that  with  a  sudden  force  that  few  resisted, 
she  made  her  way  into  the  saloon. 

But  whatever  might  have  been  her  purpose, 
she  did  not  find  the  saloon-keeper  there,  he  having 
left  the  bar-room  and  gone  up  stairs.  Her  sudden 
appearance  and  strange  manner  occasioned  great 
surprise  among  those  who  were  present,  nearly 
all  of  whom  knew  Mrs.  McAlister  well,  from  her 
various  exploits  in  bar-rooms,  and  trials  for 
assaults  upon  liquor  sellers.  She  had  become  a 
noted  character  in  Brantly.  As  she  pressed 
forward  toward  the  bar,  men  drew  back,  looking 


362  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

with  eager  curiosity  to  see  what  new  excitement 
was  at  hand. 

"  She  didn't  do  it,  they  say,"  stepping  a  pace 
or  two  from  the  counter.  She  was  breathing 
rapidly. 

"No,  she  missed  him/'  answered  one  who 
caught  the  drift  of  her  question. 

"Poor  thing!  Her  hand  was  too  weak.  If 
she'd  only  had  this!"  Raising  her  hand  as  she 
spoke,  the  sleeve  of  her  gown  fell  back,  and 
revealed  the  grimy  skin  and  tensely-corded  mus 
cles  of  her  arm,  into  which  passion  could  throw 
the  strength  of  a  giant.  "  If  she'd  only  had 
this !"  And  her  hand  went  plunging  down  with 
the  motion  of  a  thrust.  "But  she'll  have  it  out 
with  him  yet,  poor  thing !  It's  for  her  boy,  poor 
mother !  Poor  mother !  And  for  all  our  boys. 
It's  coming !  We'll  all  have  it  out  with  them, 
for  our  boys !  Who  cares  for  mad-houses  and 
jails,  and  the  law,  and  judges  and  courts,  I  say? 
Who  cares,  when  they're  killin'  our  boys,  body 
and  soul  ?  Who  cares  ?  Not  Katy  McAlister. 


RETRIBUTION.  3Go 

The  law  doesn't  help  us ;  and  the  court  and 
judges  don't  help  us;  and  the  jails  and  the  mad 
houses  don't  help  us.  Nothing  will  help  us  if  we 
don't  help  ourselves !" 

The  woman  had  wrought  herself  into  a  frenzy. 
Her  voice  was  pitched  to  a  high  key,  and  she 
was  gesticulating  madly.  The  inmates  of  the 
bar-room  drew  still  farther  away  from  her,  some 
laughing;  but  most  of  them  looking  on  with 
serious  faces. 

"  No,  she  didn't  do  it;  more's  the  pity  !  Poor 
thing  !  And  they'll  shut  her  up  in  the  mad-house 
again.  And  ye'll  all  stand  by  and  see  it  done, 
and  not  lift  a  hand  to  help  her,  poor  thing !  with 
her  heart  broke  !  But  ye'll  stand  up  for  Fitbian, 
and  his  devilish  crew !  0  yes  !  Fithian's  your 
man.  Fitbian  !  Fithian  ! !  Fithian  !  !  !"  Her 
voice  rising  on  each  repetition  of  the  name  until 
it  rang  forth  in  a  delirious  scream.  A  tempest 
of  feeling  had  swept  across  the  woman's  soul,  arid 
there  were  lightning  flashes  in  her  eyes.  With 
her  form  lifted  to  its  utmost  height  and  her  arms 


364  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

extended  above  her  head,  she  looked  a  very  pro 
phetess  of  evil.  Little  wonder  that  the  inmates 
of  the  bar-room  made  wider  the  open  space 
around  her. 

"  All  you  men  against  us  poor  mothers  !"  A 
mingling  of  contempt  and  pleading  accusation, 
and  weak  self-pity  in  the  changing  voice,  which 
she  dropped  to  a  lower  key.  "  And  when  we 
try  to  help  ourselves;  to  right  our  wrongs;  it's 
the  jail  and  the  mad-house!  Ah  me  !"  A  deep, 
shivering  sigh  following  the  ejaculation.  "  There 
are  worse  things  then  jails  and  mad-houses ;  and 
we'll  go  there  if  we  must !" 

Then  breaking  through  the  crowd  of  men  that 
instantly  gathered  about  her,  she  took  her  way 
along  the  principal  street  for  a  short  distance  and 
then  turned  off,  running  as  she  went.  A  portion 
of  the  crowd  followed.  At  the  low^er  end  of  the 
street  down  which  she  had  gone  were  some  of 
the  vilest  drinking  dens  in  the  place ;  and  their 
keepers  knew  her  well,  for  she  had  troubled  them 
often  by  her  unwelcome  visitations.  There  was 


RETRIBUTION.  365 

a  butcher's  shop  in  her  way.  Into  this  she  passed 
swiftly  and  was  reaching  for  a  knife  that  lay 
on  his  block,  when  the  butcher  caught  it  up,  and 
held  it  above  her  reach.  An  attempt  to  seize 
upon  a  cleaver  was  as  little  successful.  Baffled  in 
her  effort  to  get  hold  of  a  murderous  weapon, 
the  now  infuriated  woman  left  the  shop  and  kept 
on  down  the  street.  Attracted  by  the  noise  with 
out,  the  inmates  of  the  several  bar-rooms  made 
their  way  to  the  doors.  The  keeper  of  the  first 
saloon  that  came  in  Mrs.  McAlister's  path,  seeing 
her  swift  approach,  and  the  crowd  that  was  com 
ing  close  after  her,  took  counsel  of  prudence,  and 
stepping  back  shut  and  locked  his  door.  He 
knew  something  about  Mrs.  McAlister,  and  did 
not  care  to  have  any  repetition  of  his  unsatisfac 
tory  experiences. 

The  keeper  of  the  second  bar-room  that  came 
in  this  woman's  course  did  not  have  as  much 
presence  of  mind  as  the  first,  nor  act  with  a  like 
discretion.  Unfortunately  for  this  man,  as  Mrs. 
McAlister  confronted  him,  and  he  set  his  small, 


366  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

light  figure  in  the  door,  in  the  effort  to  bar  her 
entrance,  she  saw  her  son  standing  just  inside. 
As  a  hawk  striking  some  poor  little  bird,  or  a 
wild  beast  leaping  on  its  prey,  did  Mrs.  McAlister 
spring  upon  the  tavern-keeper.  But  ere  she 
could  do  him  any  hurt  she  was  in  the  grasp  of 
two  or  three  men,  who  held  her  firmly.  From 
the  saloon  she  was  taken  home,  struggling  and 
raving  all  the  way  like  an  insane  woman,  and 
stirring  the  people  with  an  excitement  deeper 
still  than  that  which  was  already  agitating  the 
town. 


BRANTLY   AROUSED.  367 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BRANTLY    AROUSED. 

and  trade  were  suspended  in  Brantly 
for  the  day.  There  was  a  halt  in  the  com 
mon  march  of  events;  a  pause  for  observation. 
Men  took  counsel  one  of  another ;  compared  past 
times  with  the  present ;  counted  the  gains  and 
losses;  hearkened  to  reason  and  the  pleadings 
of  humanity  ;  and  considered  questions  of  respon 
sibility,  and  the  moral  and  spiritual  interests  of 
the  whole  people  as  compared  with  the  right 
claimed  under  the  law  by  a  few  bad  men  to  make 
gain  out  of  their  destruction. 

The  conference  between  Mr.  Lyman  and  Mr. 
Norman,  interrupted  by  the  incidents  just  de 
scribed,  was  resumed  at  a  later  hour  in  the  day, 


368         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

and  after  these  arid  other  incidents  had  given  a 
graver  cast  to  their  feelings. 

'-'•Brantly  must  call  a  halt!"  said  Mr.  Lyrnan, 
as  the  two  men  met  again  in  the  mid-afternoon,  u  no 
matter  who  or  what  is  hurt  in  the  sudden  check. 
We  must  be  rid  of  these  saloon-keepers  ;  by  fair 
means  if  possible — if  not,  then  by  foul.  They 
are  a  blot  and  a  curse — an  eating  cancer,  as  I 
said  this  morning.  Their  keepers  are  human 
vampires,  living  on,  and  exhausting  the  blood  of 
the  people.  Would  I  have  had  a  single  regret, 
sir,  if  Mrs.  Irwin  had  made  a  surer  aim  to-day? 
No,  sir  !  You  need  not  look  dissent  or  reproof, 
Mr.  Norman.  You  are  not  a  father.  If  some 
hell-fiend  had  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  your 
child,  and  his  hand  on  his  throat,  would  you 
stand  off  and  wrait  until  life  was  nearly  gone  be 
cause  the  law  gave  this  hell-fiend  immunity  in 
his  devilish  work  ?  I  think  not !  Humanity  is 
higher  than  law — human  law,  I  mean ;  and 
when  the  law  tramples  on  humanity  it  is  a  curse 
and  not  a  blessing,  and  to  resist  becomes  a  duty." 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  369 

"  But  we  must  not,  in  our  resistance  to  bad 
laws,  do  violence  to  persons  or  property.  We 
may  obstruct,  in  order  to  lessen  their  evil  influ 
ence.  Beyond  this,  action  is  doubtful,  and  dan 
gerous  to  social  order.  Murder  is  the  highest 
crime  against  humanity,  and  cannot  be  justified 
on  any  plea." 

"I  do  not  justify  crime  in  any  form,  Mr.  Nor- 
man.  But  if  the  law  gives  power  to  bad  men  to 
afflict  the  people  with  such  direful  evils  that  some 
are  driven  to  desperation,  and  some  to  madness; 
and  if  in  the  blindness  of  desperation,  or  in  the 
fury  of  madness,  some  agonized  creature — a  crazed 
arid  heart-broken  mother,  if  you  will — should 
strike  a  death-dealing  blow  at  one  of  these,  where 
is  the  responsibility,  and  with  whom  lies  the 
crime  ?  To  evil-doers  retributions  come  in  many 
ways ;  and  punishment  is  oftener  without  than 
within  the  rulings  of  the  law.  There  is  no  safety 
in  wrong.  It  stands  under  a  perpetual  menace. 
Is  always  in  danger;  and,  sooner  or  later,  gets 
a  death-wound  and  dies.  I  care  but  little  how 
24 


360  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

keep  him  away  from  the  dram-shops.  This  life 
of  trouble,  and  grief  and  inordinate  excitement, 
was  making  a  wreck  of  the  unhappy  mother ; 
and  when  she  said  to  Mr.  Lyman ;  "  There's 
some  of  the  rest  of  us  poor  mothers  as  isn't  right 
in  our  heads,  with  the  shame  and  the  sorrow  of 
these  saloons,"  and  he  saw  the  wild  look  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  strong  fierce  purpose  that  was 
quivering  in  her  face,  he  felt  alarmed  and  anxious 
lest  a  thought  of  murder  had  been  thrown  into 
her  mind. 

"  You'd  better  go  home,  Mrs.  McAllister,"  he 
said.  "  These  things  excite  and  worry  you  too 
much." 

"  He  isn't  hurt,"  remarked  a  man,  who  came 
up  at  this  moment.  "  He  made  a  narrow  escape. 
The  knife  struck  on  one  of  his  ribs,  but  didn't 
even  break  the  skin." 

"  Was  it  Mrs.  Irwin,  true  and  sure  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  McAlister  eagerly. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  she  missed  him  again  ?  Poor  thing  !  If 


RETRIBUTION.  357 

for  a  hundred  rumors  were  in  the  air ;  it  being 
said,  among  other  things,  that  Fithian  had  been 
severely  and  fatally  wounded. 

Mr.  Norman  and  Mr.  Lyman  were  still  talking 
when  a  man  rushed  into  the  "  Fountain  Inn," 
crying  out  that  Dennis  Fithian  had  been  stabbed 
by  a  woman.  As  they  gained  the  street,  they 
saw  people  running  from  all  directions — men 
and  women  as  well,  the  crowd  moving  toward 
Fithian's  saloon.  There  was  loud  talking  and 
eager  questions  and  great  excitement. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  cried  a  woman,  who 
came  running  with  the  crowd.  "  Who's  killed  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  any  one  is  killed,  Mrs. 
McAlister.  But  they  say  Fithian's  been  stabbed 
by  Mrs.  Irwin,"  answered  Mr.  Lyrnan. 

"  No !"  breathed  out  in  a  tone  of  strong  sur 
prise,  as  the  woman  drew  back  a  step. 

u  That's  what  they  say." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  McAlister  underwent  rapid 
changes. 

u  And  it  was  for  her  boy  !"     Her  breath  came 


372  THE   BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

or  bend  her  arm,,  it  remains  just  as  you  place  it; 
and  so  of  any  part  of  her  body." 

66  Does  the  doctor  give  any  opinion  as  to  the 
duration  of  this  state  ?" 

"  It  may  continue  for  days  or  weeks.  He  can 
not  speak  with  any  certainty." 

"  Did  she  go  into  it  immediately  on  reaching 
home  ?" 

"  Almost  immediately.  I  knew  nothing  of  her 
escape  from  the  asylum  until  I  saw  her  flying 
along  the  street  with  a  crowd  in  pursuit.  It  was 
a  dreadful  shock.  She  threw  herself  into  my 
arms  with  a  frightened  cry,  and  I  carried  her  into 
the  house — her  form  shaking  as  if  she  were  in  a 
strong  ague.  As  I  laid  her  down  she  looked  up 
at  me  and  said  :  f  I've  done  it  at  last,  and  my 
poor  boy  is  saved!'  Then  she  shut  her  eyes  arid 
grew  calm  and  still.  The  deep  lines  in  her  fore 
head  gradually  smoothed  themselves  out,  and  a 
soft  and  peaceful  expression  began  stealing  over 
her  face.  A  strange  quiet  fell  upon  her,  sense 
and  motion  grew,  less  and  less,  until,  except  for 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  373 

the  almost  imperceptible  rising  and  falling  of 
her  bosom,  she  lay  as  still  as  death." 

w;  And  there  has  been  no  change  since  ?" 

"None."  Then  after  a  moment,  "I've  been 
talking  with  three  or  four  of  our  townsmen 
about  this  liquor  curse,  and  we  all  agree  that  it 
must  come  to  an  end,  and  that  at  once." 

"  If  not  by  fair  means,  then  by  foul,"  said  Mr. 
Lyman. 

"  By  any  means,  fair  or  foul,"  answered  Mr. 
Irwin.  "  And  I  for  one  am  ready  to  take  my 
share  of  whatever  consequences  may  come.  But 
we  hope  to  prevail  by  fair  means ;  or  in  other 
words,  by  such  a  show  of  force  and  determination 
as  will  compel  a  retreat,  and  so  give  us  the  victory 
without  a  battle.  If  it  were  not  for  Dennis 
Fithian " 

"  There's  been  more  trouble  down  at  Fithian's," 
said  Horace  Lyman,  entering  his  father's  office 
at  this  moment.  He  was  flushed  and  excited. 
Five  years  had  made  sad  changes  in  this  young 
man ;  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  the  life  he  had 


356  THE    BAR-KOOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

excitement.  Before  he  had  time  to  think,  or 
question  as  to  the  meaning  of  all  this,  the  woman 
had  reached  him,  and  he  saw  with  a  sudden  sense 
of  weak  terror,  a  face  he  knew  too  well — that  of 
Mrs.  Irwin.  Ere  he  could  lift  his  arm  in  defence 
she  had  struck  at  him  with  a  knife  which  she 
carried  in  one  hand,  and  which  until  now  had 
been  concealed  under  her  shawl.  Fortunately, 
the  blade  only  penetrated  his  clothing,  and  before 
she  could  repeat  the  blow,  he  had  time  to  catch 
the  hand  upraised  a  second  time,  and  hold  it 
firmly  until  help  came. 

An  incident  like  this  could  not  happen  without 
the  knowledge  thereof  passing  through  the  town 
with  an  almost  electric  quickness.  Mrs.  Irwin, 
who  had  escaped  from  the  asylum  and  made  her 
way  to  Brantly,  none  knew  how,  was  taken  to 
her  home ;  and  Fithian,  in  a  tremor  of  agitation 
which  he  could  not  repress,  made  a  hurried  retreat 
to  his  bar-room,  wThere  he  steadied  his  nerves 
with  large  draughts  of  brandy  and  water.  A 
crowd  of  people  came  pressing  into  the  saloon, 


RETRIBUTION.  353 

baleful  shadow  rested  like  a  pall  of  death  on 
many  homes  that  but  for  him  might  have  been 
full  of  sunshine?  He  had  just  parted  from  his 
daughter — once  he  had  been  very  proud  of  her 
beauty;  and  taking  the  usual  capacity  of  such 
men  for  loving  anything  out  of  themselves,  al 
ways  fond  of  her.  More  than  three  years  before 
this  time  she  was  married  to  a  young  man  of 
good  family,  then  a  clerk  in  one  of  the  largest 
stores  in  town.  Her  father  gave  the  young  couple 
a  house,  neatly  furnished,  and  they  began  life 
with  a  pleasant  outlook.  But  the  temptation  set 
by  Fithian  in  the  way  of  other  young  men  was 
as  close  to  the  feet  of  his  son-in-law  as  to  theirs, 
and  the  danger  was  as  great  for  him  as  for  them ; 
nay,  even  greater  than  in  many  cases.  That  he 
was  not  strong  enough  to  resist  the  influences  to 
which  he  was  exposed  is  hardly  a  matter  of  sur 
prise. 

He  had,  as  we  have  said,  just  parted  from  his 
daughter.    What  was  the  image  held  in  his  mind 
as  he  walked,  with  stooping  shoulders  and  eyes 
23 


376         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

know?'  said  Fithian.  'It's  none  of  your  busi 
ness.' 

"'Maybe  not/  answered  Joe,  with  a  sneer 
curling  his  lips.  '  But  if  I  choose  to  make  it 
iny  business,  who's  going  to  hinder  me  ?' 

"  At  this  Fithian  came  towards  him,  and  cried 
out  as  he  drew  back  his  hand,  '  Get  out  of  here  !' 
He  was  fairly  foaming  at  the  mouth.  But  Joe 
didn't  stir  an  inch.  He  was  cool  and  completely 
on  his  guard,  (  Don't  touch  me  !'  he  said,  in  a 
low  stern  voice;  but  the  words  had  scarcely  passed 
his  lips  before  Fithian  struck  him  on  the  breast, 
the  blow  staggering  him  back  for  two  or  three 
paces.  The  gleam  of  Joe  Thompson's  knife  was 
like  the  sudden  swift  quiver  of  a  lightning  flash  ; 
but  before  he  could  use  the  weapon  it  was  struck 
from  his  hand.  As  it  fell  to  the  floor  a  fierce  growl 
came  from  his  lips,  and  he  leaped  on  Fithian 
with  the  savage  spring  of  a  tiger.  It  was  some 
time  before  we  could  separate  them.  As  we  did 
so,  two  or  three  of  us  holding  Joe  back,  Fithian 
was  lifted  from  the  floor.  His  face  was  purple, 


BRANTLY   AROUSED.  377 

and  his  eyes  had  a  strange  stare  in  them.  I  saw 
him  reach  out  his  hands  suddenly  as  if  trying  to 
catch  hold  of  something,  and  then  slip  from  the 
hands  of  the  two  men  who  were  trying  to  hold 
hirn  up,  and  fall  like  a  dead  and  nerveless  mass 
upon  the  floor.  The  doctor,  who  was  sent  for 
immediately,  says  it's  a  case  of  apoplexy,  and 
that  there's  not  the  slightest  chance  of  his 
recovery." 

"  For  which  God  be  praised,"  said  Mr.  Lyman, 
as  his  son  closed  the  last  sentence.  "  Our  deli 
verance  is  nearer  at  hand  than  we  thought." 

The  silence  that  fell  upon  the  little  company 
was  broken  by  a  tumult  in  the  street ;  the  noise 
of  which  came  from  a  distance. 

As  Mr.  Lyman  and  his  friends  started  from  the 
office  to  see  what  this  meant,  they  saw  an  excited 
crowd  in  front  of  a  drinking-house,  known  as  one 
of  the  worst  in  the  city  ;  a  vile  den  in  which 
temptation  to  all  manner  of  debasement  and 
wickedness  met  the  weak  and  the  strong  who 
passed  within  its  doors. 


368  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

and  after  these  arid  other  incidents  had  given  a 
graver  cast  to  their  feelings. 

"  Brantly  must  call  a  halt!"  said  Mr.  Lyrnan, 
as  the  two  men  met  again  in  the  mid- afternoon,  fc<  no 
matter  who  or  what  is  hurt  in  the  sudden  check. 
We  must  be  rid  of  these  saloon-keepers ;  by  fair 
means  if  possible — if  not,  then  by  foul.  They 
are  a  blot  and  a  curse — an  eating  cancer,  as  I 
said  this  morning.  Their  keepers  are  human 
vampires,  living  on,  and  exhausting  the  blood  of 
the  people.  Would  I  have  had  a  single  regret, 
sir,  if  Mrs.  Irwin  had  made  a  surer  aim  to-day? 
No,  sir !  You  need  not  look  dissent  or  reproof, 
Mr.  Norman.  You  are  not  a  father.  If  some 
hell-fiend  had  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  your 
child,  and  his  hand  on  his  throat,  would  you 
stand  off  and  wait  until  life  was  nearly  gone  be 
cause  the  law  gave  this  hell-fiend  immunity  in 
his  devilish  work  ?  I  think  not !  Humanity  is 
higher  than  law — human  law,  I  mean ;  and 
when  the  law  tramples  on  humanity  it  is  a  curse 
and  not  a  blessing,  and  to  resist  becomes  a  duty." 


RETKIBUTION.  365 

a  butcher's  shop  in  her  way.  Into  this  she  passed 
swiftly  and  was  reaching  for  a  knife  that  lay 
on  his  block,  when  the  butcher  caught  it  up,  and 
held  it  above  her  reach.  An  attempt  to  seize 
upon  a  cleaver  was  as  little  successful.  Baffled  in 
her  effort  to  get  hold  of  a  murderous  weapon, 
the  now  infuriated  woman  left  the  shop  and  kept 
on  down  the  street.  Attracted  by  the  noise  with 
out,  the  inmates  of  the  several  bar-rooms  made 
their  way  to  the  doors.  The  keeper  of  the  first 
saloon  that  came  in  Mrs.  McAlister's  path,  seeing 
her  swift  approach,  and  the  crowd  that  was  com 
ing  close  after  her,  took  counsel  of  prudence,  and 
stepping  back  shut  and  locked  his  door.  He 
knew  something  about  Mrs.  McAlister,  and  did 
not  care  to  have  any  repetition  of  his  unsatisfac 
tory  experiences. 

The  keeper  of  the  second  bar-room  that  came 
in  this  woman's  course  did  not  have  as  much 
presence  of  mind  as  the  first,  nor  act  with  a  like 
discretion.  Unfortunately  for  this  man,  as  Mrs. 
McAlister  confronted  him,  and  he  set  his  small, 


366  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

light  figure  in  the  door,  in  the  effort  to  bar  her 
entrance,  she  saw  her  son  standing  just  inside. 
As  a  hawk  striking  some  poor  little  bird,  or  a 
wild  beast  leaping  on  its  prey,  did  Mrs.  McAlister 
spring  upon  the  tavern-keeper.  But  ere  she 
could  do  him  any  hurt  she  was  in  the  grasp  of 
two  or  three  men,  who  held  her  firmly.  From 
the  saloon  she  was  taken  home,  struggling  and 
raving  all  the  way  like  an  insane  woman,  and 
stirring  the  people  with  an  excitement  deeper 
still  than  that  which  was  already  agitating  the 
town. 


BRANTLY   AROUSED.  367 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

BRANTLY    AROUSED. 

and  trade  were  suspended  in  Brantly 
for  the  day.  There  was  a  halt  in  the  com 
mon  march  of  events;  a  pause  for  observation. 
Men  took  counsel  one  of  another ;  compared  past 
times  with  the  present ;  counted  the  gains  and 
losses;  hearkened  to  reason  and  the  pleadings 
of  humanity  ;  and  considered  questions  of  respon 
sibility,  and  the  moral  and  spiritual  interests  of 
the  whole  people  as  compared  with  the  right 
claimed  under  the  law  by  a  few  bad  men  to  make 
gain  out  of  their  destruction. 

The  conference  between  Mr.  Lyrnan  and  Mr. 
Norman,  interrupted  by  the  incidents  just  de 
scribed,  was  resumed  at  a  later  hour  in  the  day, 


368  THE    BAK-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

and  after  these  arid  other  incidents  had  given  a 
graver  cast  to  their  feelings. 

"  Brantly  must  call  a  halt!"  said  Mr.  Lyrnan, 
as  the  two  men  met  again  in  the  mid-afternoon,  "  no 
matter  who  or  what  is  hurt  in  the  sudden  check. 
We  must  be  rid  of  these  saloon-keepers  ;  by  fair 
means  if  possible — if  not,  then  by  foul.  They 
are  a  blot  and  a  curse — an  eating  cancer,  as  I 
said  this  morning.  Their  keepers  are  human 
vampires,  living  on,  and  exhausting  the  blood  of 
the  people.  Would  I  have  had  a  single  regret, 
sir,  if  Mrs.  Irwin  had  made  a  surer  aim  to-day? 
No,  sir !  You  need  not  look  dissent  or  reproof, 
Mr.  Norman.  You  are  not  a  father.  If  some 
hell-fiend  had  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  your 
child,  and  his  hand  on  his  throat,  would  you 
stand  off  and  wait  until  life  was  nearly  gone  be 
cause  the  law  gave  this  hell-fiend  immunity  in 
his  devilish  work  ?  I  think  not !  Humanity  is 
higher  than  law — human  law,  I  mean ;  and 
when  the  law  tramples  on  humanity  it  is  a  curse 
and  not  a  blessing,  and  to  resist  becomes  a  duty." 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  369 

"  But  we  must  not,  in  our  resistance  to  bad 
laws,  do  violence  to  persons  or  property.  We 
may  obstruct,  in  order  to  lessen  their  evil  influ 
ence.  Beyond  this,  action  is  doubtful,  and  dan 
gerous  to  social  order.  Murder  is  the  highest 
crime  against  humanity,  and  cannot  be  justified 
on  any  plea." 

"I  do  not  justify  crime  in  any  form,  Mr.  Nor 
man.  But  if  the  law  gives  power  to  bad  men  to 
afflict  the  people  with  such  direful  evils  that  some 
are  driven  to  desperation,  and  some  to  madness; 
and  if  in  the  blindness  of  desperation,  or  in  the 
fury  of  madness,  some  agonized  creature— a  crazed 
and  heart-broken  mother,  if  you  will — should 
strike  a  death-dealing  blow  at  one  of  these,  where 
is  the  responsibility,  and  with  whom  lies  the 
crime  ?  To  evil-doers  retributions  come  in  many 
ways ;  and  punishment  is  oftener  without  than 
within  the  rulings  of  the  law.  There  is  no  safety 
in  wrong.  It  stands  under  a  perpetual  menace. 
Is  always  in  danger;  and,  sooner  or  later,  gets 
a  death-wound  and  dies.  I  care  but  little  how 
24 


360         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

keep  him  away  from  the  dram-shops.  This  life 
of  trouble,  and  grief  and  inordinate  excitement, 
was  making  a  wreck  of  the  unhappy  mother ; 
and  when  she  said  to  Mr.  Lyman ;  "  There's 
some  of  the  rest  of  us  poor  mothers  as  isn't  right 
in  our  heads,  with  the  shame  and  the  sorrow  of 
these  saloons,"  and  he  saw  the  wild  look  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  strong  fierce  purpose  that  was 
quivering  in  her  face,  he  felt  alarmed  and  anxious 
lest  a  thought  of  murder  had  been  thrown  into 
her  mind. 

"  You'd  better  go  home,  Mrs.  McAllister,"  he 
said.  "  These  things  excite  and  worry  you  too 
much." 

"  He  isn't  hurt,"  remarked  a  man,  who  came 
up  at  this  moment.  "  He  made  a  narrow  escape. 
The  knife  struck  on  one  of  his  ribs,  but  didn't 
even  break  the  skin." 

"  Was  it  Mrs.  Irwin,  true  and  sure  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  McAlister  eagerly. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  she  missed  him  again  ?  Poor  thing  !   If 


RETRIBUTION.  357 

for  a  hundred  rumors  were  in  the  air ;  it  being 
said,  among  other  things,  that  Fithian  had  been 
severely  and  fatally  wounded. 

Mr.  Norman  and  Mr.  Lyman  were  still  talking 
when  a  man  rushed  into  the  "  Fountain  Inn," 
crying  out  that  Dennis  Fithian  had  been  stabbed 
by  a  woman.  As  they  gained  the  street,  they 
saw  people  running  from  all  directions — men 
and  women  as  well,  the  crowd  moving  toward 
Fithian's  saloon.  There  was  loud  talking  and 
eager  questions  and  great  excitement. 

"  What's  the  matter?"  cried  a  woman,  who 
came  running  with  the  crowd.  "  Who's  killed  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  any  one  is  killed,  Mrs. 
McAlister.  But  they  say  Fithian's  been  stabbed 
by  Mrs.  Irwin,"  answered  Mr.  Lyrnan. 

"  No !"  breathed  out  in  a  tone  of  strong  sur 
prise,  as  the  woman  drew  back  a  step. 

u  That's  what  they  say." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  McAlister  underwent  rapid 
changes. 

li  And  it  was  for  her  boy  !"     Her  breath  came 


372  THE   BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

or  bend  her  arm,  it  remains  just  as  you  place  it; 
and  so  of  any  part  of  her  body." 

"  Does  the  doctor  give  any  opinion  as  to  the 
duration  of  this  state  ?" 

"  It  may  continue  for  days  or  weeks.  He  can 
not  speak  with  any  certainty." 

"  Did  she  go  into  it  immediately  on  reaching 
home  ?" 

"  Almost  immediately.  I  knew  nothing  of  her 
escape  from  the  asylum  until  I  saw  her  flying 
along  the  street  with  a  crowd  in  pursuit.  It  was 
a  dreadful  shock.  She  threw  herself  into  my 
arms  with  a  frightened  cry,  and  I  carried  her  into 
the  house — her  form  shaking  as  if  she  were  in  a 
strong  ague.  As  I  laid  her  down  she  looked  up 
at  me  and  said  :  '  I've  done  it  at  last,  and  my 
poor  boy  is  saved !'  Then  she  shut  her  eyes  and 
grew  calm  and  still.  The  deep  lines  in  her  fore 
head  gradually  smoothed  themselves  out,  and  a 
soft  and  peaceful  expression  began  stealing  over 
her  face.  A  strange  quiet  fell  upon  her,  sense 
and  motion  grew,  less  and  less,  until,  except  for 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  373 

the  almost  imperceptible  rising  and  falling  of 
her  bosom,  she  lay  as  still  as  death." 

"  And  there  has  been  no  change  since  ?" 

"None."  Then  after  a  moment,  "I've  been 
talking  with  three  or  four  of  our  townsmen 
about  this  liquor  curse,  and  we  all  agree  that  it 
must  come  to  an  end,  and  that  at  once." 

"  If  not  by  fair  means,  then  by  foul,"  said  Mr. 
Lyman. 

"  By  any  means,  fair  or  foul,"  answered  Mr. 
Irwin.  "  And  I  for  one  am  ready  to  take  my 
share  of  whatever  consequences  may  come.  But 
we  hope  to  prevail  by  fair  means ;  or  in  other 
words,  by  such  a  show  of  force  and  determination 
as  will  compel  a  retreat,  and  so  give  us  the  victory 
without  a  battle.  If  it  were  not  for  Dennis 
Fithian " 

"There's  been  more  trouble  down  at  Fithian's," 
said  Horace  Lyman,  entering  his  father's  office 
at  this  moment.  He  was  flushed  and  excited. 
Five  years  had  made  sad  changes  in  this  young 
man ;  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  the  life  he  had 


356  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

excitement.  Before  he  had  time  to  think,  or 
question  as  to  the  meaning  of  all  this,  the  woman 
had  reached  him,  and  he  saw  with  a  sudden  sense 
of  weak  terror,  a  face  he  knew  too  well — that  of 
Mrs.  Irwin.  Ere  he  could  lift  his  arm  in  defence 
she  had  struck  at  him  with  a  knife  which  she 
carried  in  one  hand,  and  which  until  now  had 
been  concealed  under  her  shawl.  Fortunately, 
the  blade  only  penetrated  his  clothing,  and  before 
she  could  repeat  the  blow,  he  had  time  to  catch 
the  hand  upraised  a  second  time,  and  hold  it 
firmly  until  help  came. 

An  incident  like  this  could  not  happen  without 
the  knowledge  thereof  passing  through  the  town 
with  an  almost  electric  quickness.  Mrs.  Irwin, 
who  had  escaped  from  the  asylum  and  made  her 
way  to  Brantly,  none  knew  how,  was  taken  to 
her  home ;  and  Fithian,  in  a  tremor  of  agitation 
which  he  could  not  repress,  made  a  hurried  retreat 
to  his  bar-room,  where  he  steadied  his  nerves 
with  large  draughts  of  brandy  and  water.  A 
crowd  of  people  came  pressing  into  the  saloon, 


RETRIBUTION.  353 

baleful  shadow  rested  like  a  pall  of  death  on 
many  homes  that  but  for  him  might  have  been 
full  of  sunshine?  He  had  just  parted  from  his 
daughter — once  he  had  been  very  proud  of  her 
beauty;  and  taking  the  usual  capacity  of  such 
men  for  loving  anything  out  of  themselves,  al 
ways  fond  of  her.  More  than  three  years  before 
this  time  she  was  married  to  a  young  man  of 
good  family,  then  a  clerk  in  one  of  the  largest 
stores  in  town.  Her  father  gave  the  young  couple 
a  house,  neatly  furnished,  and  they  began  life 
with  a  pleasant  outlook.  But  the  temptation  set 
by  Fithian  in  the  way  of  other  young  men  was 
as  close  to  the  feet  of  his  son-in-law  as  to  theirs, 
and  the  danger  was  as  great  for  him  as  for  them ; 
nay,  even  greater  than  in  many  cases.  That  he 
was  not  strong  enough  to  resist  the  influences  to 
which  he  was  exposed  is  hardly  a  matter  of  sur 
prise. 

He  had,  as  we  have  said,  just  parted  from  his 
daughter.    What  was  the  image  held  in  his  mind 
as  he  walked,  with  stooping  shoulders  and  eyes 
23 


376  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

know?'  said  Fithian.  'It's  none  of  your  busi 
ness.' 

"  '  Maybe  not/  answered  Joe,  with  a  sneer 
curling  his  lips.  '  But  if  I  choose  to  make  it 
iny  business,  who's  going  to  hinder  me  ?' 

"  At  this  Fithian  came  towards  him,  and  cried 
out  as  he  drew  back  his  hand,  ;  Get  out  of  here  !' 
He  was  fairly  foaming  at  the  mouth.  But  Joe 
didn't  stir  an  inch.  He  was  cool  and  completely 
on  his  guard,  '  Don't  touch  me  !'  he  said,  in  a 
low  stern  voice;  but  the  words  had  scarcely  passed 
his  lips  before  Fithian  struck  him  on  the  breast, 
the  blow  staggering  him  back  for  two  or  three 
paces.  The  gleam  of  Joe  Thompson's  knife  was 
like  the  sudden  swift  quiver  of  a  lightning  flash  ; 
but  before  he  could  use  the  weapon  it  was  struck 
from  his  hand.  As  it  fell  to  the  floor  a  fierce  growl 
came  from  his  lips,  and  he  leaped  on  Fithian 
with  the  savage  spring  of  a  tiger.  It  was  some 
time  before  we  could  separate  them.  As  we  did 
so,  two  or  three  of  us  holding  Joe  back,  Fithian 
was  lifted  from  the  floor.  His  face  was  purple, 


BEANTLY   AROUSED.  377 

and  his  eyes  had  a  strange  stare  in  them.  I  saw 
him  reach  out  his  hands  suddenly  as  if  trying  to 
catch  hold  of  something,  and  then  slip  from  the 
hands  of  the  two  men  who  were  trying  to  hold 
him  up,  and  fall  like  a  dead  and  nerveless  mass 
upon  the  floor.  The  doctor,  who  was  sent  for 
immediately,  says  it's  a  case  of  apoplexy,  and 
that  there's  not  the  slightest  chance  of  his 
recovery." 

"For  which  God  be  praised,"  said  Mr.  Lyman, 
as  his  son  closed  the  last  sentence.  "  Our  deli 
verance  is  nearer  at  hand  than  we  thought." 

The  silence  that  fell  upon  the  little  company 
was  broken  by  a  tumult  in  the  street;  the  noise 
of  which  came  from  a  distance. 

As  Mr.  Lyman  and  his  friends  started  from  the 
office  to  see  what  this  meant,  they  saw  an  excited 
crowd  in  front  of  a  drinking-house,  known  as  one 
of  the  worst  in  the  city  ;  a  vile  den  in  which 
temptation  to  all  manner  of  debasement  and 
wickedness  met  the  weak  and  the  strong  who 
passed  within  its  doors. 


THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

and  after  these  and  other  incidents  had  given  a 
graver  cast  to  their  feelings. 

"  Brantly  must  call  a  halt !"  said  Mr.  Lyrnan, 
as  the  two  men  met  again  in  the  mid-afternoon, k'  no 
matter  who  or  what  is  hurt  in  the  sudden  check. 
We  must  be  rid  of  these  saloon-keepers  ;  by  fair 
means  if  possible — if  not,  then  by  foul.  They 
are  a  blot  and  a  curse — an  eating  cancer,  as  I 
said  this  morning.  Their  keepers  are  human 
vampires,  living  on,  and  exhausting  the  blood  of 
the  people.  Would  I  have  had  a  single  regret, 
sir,  if  Mrs.  Irwin  had  made  a  surer  aim  to-day? 
No,  sir!  You  need  not  look  dissent  or  reproof, 
Mr.  Norman.  You  are  not  a  father.  If  some 
hell-fiend  had  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  your 
child,  and  his  hand  on  his  throat,  would  you 
stand  off  and  wait  until  life  was  nearly  gone  be 
cause  the  law  gave  this  hell-fiend  immunity  in 
his  devilish  work  ?  I  think  not !  Humanity  is 
higher  than  law — human  law,  I  mean ;  and 
when  the  law  tramples  on  humanity  it  is  a  curse 
and  not  a  blessing,  and  to  resist  becomes  a  duty." 


RETRIBUTION.  365 

a  butcher's  shop  in  her  way.  Into  this  she  passed 
swiftly  and  was  reaching  for  a  knife  that  lay 
on  his  block,  when  the  butcher  caught  it  up,  and 
held  it  above  her  reach.  An  attempt  to  seize 
upon  a  cleaver  was  as  little  successful.  Baffled  in 
her  effort  to  get  hold  of  a  murderous  weapon, 
the  now  infuriated  woman  left  the  shop  and  kept 
on  down  the  street.  Attracted  by  the  noise  with 
out,  the  inmates  of  the  several  bar-rooms  made 
their  way  to  the  doors.  The  keeper  of  the  first 
saloon  that  came  in  Mrs.  McAlister's  path,  seeing 
her  swift  approach,  and  the  crowd  that  was  com 
ing  close  after  her,  took  counsel  of  prudence,  and 
stepping  back  shut  and  locked  his  door.  He 
knew  something  about  Mrs.  McAlister,  and  did 
not  care  to  have  any  repetition  of  his  unsatisfac 
tory  experiences. 

The  keeper  of  the  second  bar-room  that  came 
in  this  woman's  course  did  not  have  as  much 
presence  of  mind  as  the  first,  nor  act  with  a  like 
discretion.  Unfortunately  for  this  man,  as  Mrs. 
McAlister  confronted  him,  and  he  set  his  small, 


380  THE    BAK-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

the  blood  carrying  the  poison  of  that  disease  to 
every  other  part,  and  the  nerves  transmitting  the 
pain  of  one  member  to  a  perception  of  all  the  rest ; 
so,  in  any  organized  society — a  body  politic — 
disease  and  pain  in  one  member  must  be  felt  in 
a  measure  by  the  whole. 

In  sackcloth  and  ashes  poor  sick  Brantly  bowed 
herself  in  sorrow  and  repentance.  But  suffering 
and  despair  had  quickened  the  springs  of  a  new  life 
— a  new  life  in  a  new  will;  for  the  old,  weak,  pliant 
will  which  the  serpent  of  sensuality  had  beguiled 
and  enticed,  had  lost  its  true  perceptions  and 
power.  In  her  understanding,  which  could  see 
now  in  the  very  truth  of  things  made  clear  by  a 
sorrowful  life,  a  new  will  was  forming,  and  already 
beginning  to  feel  the  movement  of  an  intense 
desire  for  action  ;  a  wall  with  deaf  ears  for  every 
sensuous  charmer,  but  quick  to  hear  the  voice 
of  truth  and  reason.  So,  her  regeneration  was 
possible. 

A  common  thought  pervaded  the  whole  town ; 
and  there  were  the  motions  of  this  new  will  in  all 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  381 

the  common  thought.  The  mind  of  the  store 
keeper  dwelt  not  on  his  business ;  nor  that  of  the 
lawyer  on  his  briefs  and  cases.  The  artisan,  the 
manufacturer,  the  clerk,  the  laborer — all  the 
people  were  lifted  above  their  narrow  personal 
interests,  and  each,  with  rare  exceptions,  felt  the 
movement  of  a  common  purpose.  The  day  had 
come  for  resolute  action  ;  for  a  close,  hand  to  hand 
struggle  with  the  enemy  in  this  crisis  that  was 
upon  them. 

At  another  time  Mr.  Lyman  might  have  con 
sidered  the  flesh-wound  in  his  hand  a  serious 
matter,  but  he  made  it  of  small  account  now. 
After  it  was  properly  attended  to  by  a  surgeon, 
he  dismissed  it  as  far  as  possible  from  his  thoughts, 
and  gave  himself  up  to  the  work  of  organizing 
into  an  effective  force  the  sentiment  adverse  to 
saloons  in  Brantly,  which  the  events  of  the  day 
had  so  rapidly  developed. 

Before  midnight,  he  had  the  names  of  over  a 
hundred  of  the  most  influential  men  of  the  town, 
some  of  whom  had  been  among  Fithian's  best 


364  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

extended  above  her  head,  she  looked  a  very  pro 
phetess  of  evil.  Little  wonder  that  the  inmates 
of  the  bar-room  made  wider  the  open  space 
around  her. 

"  All  you  men  against  us  poor  mothers !"  A 
mingling  of  contempt  and  pleading  accusation, 
and  weak  self-pity  in  the  changing  voice,  which 
she  dropped  to  a  lower  key.  "  And  when  we 
try  to  help  ourselves ;  to  right  our  wrongs ;  it's 
the  jail  and  the  mad-house!  Ah  me  !"  A  deep, 
shivering  sigh  following  the  ejaculation.  "  There 
are  worse  things  then  jails  and  mad-houses ;  and 
we'll  go  there  if  we  must !" 

Then  breaking  through  the  crowd  of  men  that 
instantly  gathered  about  her,  she  took  her  way 
along  the  principal  street  for  a  short  distance  and 
then  turned  off,  running  as  she  went.  A  portion 
of  the  crowd  followed.  At  the  lower  end  of  the 
street  down  which  she  had  gone  were  some  of 
the  vilest  drinking  dens  in  the  place ;  and  their 
keepers  knew  her  well,  for  she  had  troubled  them 
often  by  her  unwelcome  visitations.  There  was 


KETRIBUTION.  361 

she'd  only  had  my  arm !"  And  the  woman  lifted 
her  hand  and  struck  it  down  with  violence. 

"  And  they'll  take  her  back  to  the  mad-house 
again,  poor  thing!  Poor  thing!"  her  voice  sink 
ing  to  a  pitiful  tone.  Then  with  a  stronger  and 
lore  impulsive  utterance,  "  There's  some  of  us 
not  in  the  mad-house  yet !"  As  she  said  this 
she  broke  away,  and  went  rapidly  down  the 
street,  taking  the  direction  of  Fithian's.  Pressing 
through  the  crowd,  and  pushing  men  this  way 
and  that  with  a  sudden  force  that  few  resisted, 
she  made  her  way  into  the  saloon. 

But  whatever  might  have  been  her  purpose, 
she  did  not  find  the  saloon-keeper  there,  he  having 
left  the  bar-room  and  gone  up  stairs.  Her  sudden 
appearance  and  strange  manner  occasioned  great 
surprise  among  those  who  were  present,  nearly 
all  of  whom  knew  Mrs.  McAlister  well,  from  her 
various  exploits  in  bar-rooms,  and  trials  for 
assaults  upon  liquor  sellers.  She  had  become  a 
noted  character  in  Brantly.  As  she  pressed 
forward  toward  the  bar,  men  drew  back,  looking 


384  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

an  early  hour  a  great  concourse  of  the  people, 
men  and  women,  gathered  about  the  Town  Hall. 
Among  the  first  who  addressed  them  was  Roger 
Lyman  ;  his  wounded  hand,  as  it  lay  across  his 
breast  suspended  in  a  sling,  giving  a  certain  force 
to  the  arguments  and  appeals  which  he  made  to 
the  people. 

"I  take  blame  to  myself,  fellow  townsmen," 
he  said,  "  for  the  great  calamities  that  have  fallen 
upon  us;  for  I,  to  my  sorrow  and  shame  be  it 
said,  was  among  those  who  favored  the  new  order 
of  things  which  has  cursed  us  so  terribly.  How 
I  could  have  been  so  blind,  is  a  cause  of  the 
deepest  astonishment  to  myself.  That  the  curse 
my  hand  helped  to  drag  down  has  fallen  upon 
my  own  household  as  well  as  upon  those  of  my 
neighbors,  is  but  a  just  retribution — bitter  as  the 
dispensation  may  be.  As  I  have  been  an  agent 
in  this  wrong,  I  here  solemnly  pledge  myself  to 
give  all  I  have  and  am  to  the  work  of  reparation. 
And  now,  fellow  townsmen,  what  of  this  work, 
and  where  shall  it  begin.  It  is  to  the  considera- 


BRANTLY   AROUSED.  385 

tion  of  this  question  that  we  are  giving  ourselves 
to-day ;  and  until  that  is  settled,  Brantly  does 
well  to  suspend  her  traffic  and  her  labor. 

"  How  stands  the  case  ?  We  are  a  community 
of  three  thousand  souls.  Seven  years  ago  the 
census  gave  us,  and  truly,  a  population  of  three 
thousand  six  hundred.  Then  the  county  alms- 
house  held  not  a  single  inmate  from  our  whole 
township  ;  there  are  over  twenty-five  there  now. 
In  every  case,  drunkenness  has  led  to  poverty 
and  pauperism.  Before  that  time,  criminal  cases 
were  of  rare  occurrence  in  our  courts ;  our  jail 
was  almost  empty.  But  in  the  past  seven  years 
the  court  calendar  shows  the  trial  of  over  a 
hundred  and  twenty  of  such  cases,  every  one  of 
them  traceable  to  drink ;  and  the  jail  is  full. 
Before  that  time  no  father  or  mother  in  Brantly 
had  known  the  bitter  grief  of  an  intemperate 
son ;  no  wife  the  hopeless  sorrow  of  an  intem 
perate  husband  ;  and  on  no  child  had  been  laid 
the  shame  of  a  drunken  father  !  The  wasting 

of  property   and   the  beggary  of  families  were 
25 


386  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT   BRANTLY. 

unknown.  We  were  prosperous,  peaceful  and 
happy. 

"  Shall  we  keep  on  in  the  way  we  are  going, 
my  friends  ?  Is  it  a  good  way  ?" 

"  No !    No !    No !"  rang  out  as  with  a  single 

voice. 

"  There  are  in  Brantly,"  the  speaker  resumed, 
as  the  voices  which  answered  his  appeal  died  into 
silence ;  he  spoke  slowly,  but  with  a  penetrating 
earnestness.  "  There  are  in  Brantly,  with  its 
population  of  three  thousand  immortal  souls,  just 
twenty  men,  who,  under  protection  of  our  state 
laws,  have  been,  and  are  now,  sowing  among  the 
people  the  seeds  of  all  the  crimes,  distresses, 
poverty  and  untold  miseries  from  which  we  are 
suffering.  Twenty,  did  I  say  ?  No ;  there  is  one 
less  this  morning,  thank  God  !  Do  I  rejoice  in 
the  death  of  this  man  from  whom  Brantly  has 
suffered  most  of  all  ?  Yea,  I  do  rejoice  !  I  thank 
God,  and  as  deeply  as  for  any  blessing  that  ever 
came  from  his  hand?.  Nineteen  men  sowing 
death  and  destruction  among  three  thousand 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  387 

people.  Ever  taking  and  consuming ;  but  never 
giving  or  producing.  Tumors,  abscesses,  cancers 
in  our  body  politic;  exhausting  until  the  whole 
head  is  sick  and  the  whole  heart  faint ! 

"  Are  nineteen  men  more  potent  to  destroy 
than  three  thousand  to  save  ?  Is  there  no  hope  ? 
no  remedy  ?  Are  we  enslaved  to  them  body  and 
soul?  What  think  you?  Would  it  be  well  or 
ill  for  Brantly  if  these  men  were  driven  out  ?  Is 
the  sheepfold  safer  with  the  wolf  on  the  outer 
side  ?  Are  we  the  true  shepherds  of  the  people  ; 
or  only  base  hirelings  that  flee  when  the  wolf 
cometh  ? 

"  My  friends,  there  is  no  hope  for  Brantly 
until  we  settle  the  great  question  that  is  before 
us  to-day.  Until  we  decide  that  three  thousand 
men  are  stronger  than  nineteen  ;  and  have  a  right 
to  say  to  these  nineteen,  i  You  may  get  gain 
through  any  work  or  service  to  the  people,  but 
not  in  hurting  them/  Their  property  we  have 
no  right  to  destroy,  unless  it  threatens  the  lives 
or  health  of  the  people,  and  they  refuse  to  take 


388  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

it  away.  I  counsel  no  violence.  We  are  'strong 
enough  to  have  our  will  in  this  matter  without 
violence.  But  our  will  we  must  have ! 

u  Now,  what  I  propose  as  our  first  action,  is 
the  appointment  of  a  committee  of  ten  men,  who 
shall  first  of  all  wait  on  each  saloon-keeper  in 
town,  with  a  request  from  the  citizens  to  close 
up  his  business  at  once,  and  an  offer  to  pay  him 
in  cash  the  value  of  his  stock  and  fixtures,  pro 
vided  he  sign  a  bond  with  penalties  never  to  sell 
liquor  in  the  township  again." 

t(  No — no — no  !  We'll  not  pay  them  a  dollar !" 
cried  one  in  the  crowd. 

"Nay,  my  friend,"  answered  the  speaker,  "  let 
us  be  wise  and  just.  The  law  gives  a  mercantile 
value  to  the  goods  in  which  these  men  deal. 
There  is  proprety  in  a  keg  of  beer  or  a  barrel  of 
whiskey.  We  have  too  much  at  stake  to  run 
any  risk  of  failure.  Suppose  it  cost  us  two,  or 
three,  or  even  five  thousand  dollars  to  purchase 
and  destroy  all  the  liquor  contained  in  these  bar 
rooms,  would  not  the  gain  to  us  be  incalculable  ? 


BRANTLY    AROUSED.  389 

We  ask  these  men  to  give  up  their  living  for  the 
public  good.  Are  we  ready  to  do  nothing  for  our 
own  good  ?  We,  the  people — the  three  thousand 
against  the  nineteen !  What  are  five,  or  ten,  or 
twenty,  or  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  the 
curse  that  lies  upon  Brantly.  Let  us  throw  it 
off,  be  the  cost  great  or  small. 

"  I  offer  you,"  the  speaker  said  in  closing,  "  the 
easiest  and  the  plainest  way.  The  way  without 
violence.  If  our  overtures  are  refused,  then  we 
will  seek  another  way." 


390  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    ENEMY    CAST    OUT. 

A  S  Mr.  Lyman  sat  down,  Mr.  Norman  arose. 
The  shouts  of  approval  that  were  rending 
the  air  died  slowly  away,  until  a  waiting  hush 
rested  upon  the  vast  assembly.  Before  them  was 
the  old  man  whom  many  loved  and  all  respected. 
For  forty  years  he  had  lived  among  this  people ; 
and  all  knew  that,  toward  his  neighbor,  his  life 
had  been  blameless.  As  he  stood  before  them 
now,  with  the  marks  of  age  on  his  pale,  finely- 
cut  face — the  wind  pushing  back  the  white  hair 
from  his  clear  forehead — a  feeling  akin  to  rever 
ence  came  into  their  hearts.  How  beautiful,  and 
as  one  lifted  above  and  away  from  them,  he  looked 
in  the  eyes  of  all ;  and  the  people  waited  for  him 


THE    ENEMY    CAST    OUT.  391 

to  speak,  and  held  their  hearts  in  consent  as  for 
the  voice  of  a  leader.  As  he  advised,  they  would 
do ;  for  they  had  faith  in  him,  and  knew  that 
he  would  counsel  wisely.  Every  head  was  bent 
forward  to  catch  the  first  words  that  came  from 
his  lips. 

"  What  Brantly  was,  and  what  Brantly  is,  we 
all  know,"  he  said  in  simple  form  of  speech. 
"  Ah.  what  a  difference  between  the  was  and  the 
is!  between  the  old  way  and  the  new  way! 
Is  any  man  wiser  or  better  or  happier  for  the 
new  way  ?  Is  Brantly  more  prosperous  ?  I  need 
not  answer  these  questions  ;  for  even  as  I  ask 
them  the  answer  is  in  every  man's  heart.  What 
then  ?  Shall  Brantly  keep  on  in  this  new  way, 
or  return  to  the  old  ?  Men  and  brethren ! 
What  say  you  ?  Shall  we  return  to  the  old 

0" 

way  ? 

The  shout  that  went  up  wras  as  the  voice  of  a 
single  man,  strong,  clear  and  resonant ;  corning 
back  upon  the  multitude  in  responsive  echoes 
from  the  distant  hills. 


392  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  We  shall  return.  Thank  God  for  the  hope 
and  the  promise.  But  we  must  return  as  one 
man ;  there  must  be  no  laggards  or  traitors  in 
our  camp." 

"  None  !   None  !"  answered  the  great  assembly. 

"  Let  the  will  of  the  people  be  for  the  good  of 
the  people,  and  then  the  voice  of  the  people  will 
be  the  voice  of  God,  coming  with  a  power  that 
nothing  can  resist.  Is  it  good  for  the  people  to 
have  bar-rooms  and  drinking  saloons  in  Brantly  !" 
The  speaker  paused,  and  the  answer  "  No !  No  !" 
was  given  with  no  uncertain  sound. 

"  There  may  be  one,  or  two,  or  three  who 
think  differently,"  he  said,  bending  toward  the 
multitude  as  the  silence  fell  on  them  again — 
"  who  believe  that  bars  and  saloons  are  not  un 
mixed  evils,  and  that  Brantly  will  suffer  loss  if 
she  close  them  altogether.  If  any  such  be  pre 
sent,  let  them  speak." 

The  silence  grew  deeper. 

"  Not  a  word  for  the  bars  and  saloons  !  I  see 
the  faces  of  one.  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven 


THE   ENEMY    CAST    OUT.  393 

men/'  and  Mr.  Norman,  as  he  counted,  looked 
from  point  to  point  in  the  assembly,  "  who  are 
keepers  of  saloons.  If  there  be  any  good  for  the 
people  in  such  places,  these  men  know  of  it  and 
can  point  it  out.  They  are  citizens,  with  the 
common  rights  of  their  fellow  citizens ;  the  com 
mon  right  to  work  and  serve,  and  receive  the 
reward  of  their  work  and  service ,  but  with  no 
common  right  to  injure  and  destroy — for  no  such 
right  exists.  Will  one  of  their  number  corne  up 
here  and  show  the  people  the  good  of  his  calling  ? 
How  it  helps,  and  serves,  and  blesses  ?  We  will  lis 
ten  to  him  patiently,  and  give  heed  to  what  he 
says,  for  we  are  going  to  decide  this  question  on 
its  merits  to-day." 

He  stood  still  and  waited  for  almost  a  minute, 
but  no  man  came  forward  or  uttered  a  word. 

"  If  Brantly  is  of  one  mind  and  heart,  it  is  well. 
Let  us  see  ;  I  must  not  talk  to  you  any  longer. 
After  what  Mr.  Lyman  has  said,  no  further  argu 
ments  are  needed.  The  time  for  doing  has  come. 
And  now  what  shall  we  do  ?" 


394  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  Shut  up  the  saloons !"  cried  a  thousand 
voices. 

"How  shall  it  be  done?" 

"  Peaceably  if  we  may  !  Forcibly  if  we  must !" 
cried  Mr.  Lyman,  springing  to  his  feet  and  com 
ing  forward  in  face  of  the  whole  multitude, 
which  responded  in  loud  and  prolonged  shouts, 
of  assent.  He  was  going  on  to  address  the  people 
when  Mr.  Norman  laid  his  hand  on  hirn  and 
said,  "  One  moment  if  you  please." 

The  lawyer  moved  back,  and  the  old  man 
stood  until  all  was  quiet  again. 

"  No  good  thing  was  ever  done  through  pas 
sion  or  violence,  which  might  not  have  been  done 
in  a  better  and  safer  way.  Passion  is  blind.  Rea 
son,  clear-seeing.  Let  us  act  with  justice  and 
judgment.  Brantly  must  be  free  from  the  curse 
that  is  on  her.  It  is  her  right  to  be  free;  and 
all  who  stand  in  the  way  of  that  right  must  go 
down.  But  in  the  assertion  of  our  rights  let  us 
be  careful  that  we  do  no  wrong.  If  it  were  pos 
sible  to  induce  every  man  and  boy  in  town  to  set 


THE    ENEMY    CAST    OUT.  395 

his  name  to  a  pledge  not  to  visit  a  drinking-saloon 
all  the  bars  would  soon  be  closed.  And,  might 
not  this  be  done  ? 

He  turned  to  Mr.  Lyman,  as  if  appealing  to 
him. 

"Possibly,"  answered  the  lawyer,  stepping  to 
the  front  again.     Then  to  the  people  : 

"We  must  not  lose  sight  of  one  fact.  Appetite 
for  drink  when  it  has  once  been  formed,  is  strong 
and  treacherous.  It  springs  upon  a  man  in  un 
guarded  moments,  and  bears  him  down  before 
he  can  rally  his  forces  for  resistance.  Seven  years 
of  open  bar-rooms  in  Brantly,  have  wrought  a 
sad  change  in  the  condition  of  large  numbers  of 
our  people.  Appetite  has  been  formed ;  and  with 
many  appetite  in  the  face  of  temptation  is  stronger 
than  reason,  stronger  than  love  ;  and  bears  them 
away  as  with  the  sudden  sweep  of  an  impetuous 
flood.  Better  no  dram-shops  than  pledges  not  to 
visit  them.  Let  us  have  no  dram-shops  in  our 
town.  Let  us  shut  up  the  ways  leading  to  death 
and  hell ;  doing  it  at  all  cost  and  at  all  hazards ; 


396  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

first  using  peaceable  means ;  and  should  these 
prove  unavailing,  then  more  stringent  measures. 
But  why  delay  ?  As  Mr.  Norman  says,  the  time 
for  doing  has  come.  Let  us  act  now  ;  and  with 
a  quick  and  resolute  action." 

There  was  little  need  of  further  appeals  to  the 
people,  who  were  in  no  mood  for  temporizing. 
They  had  pushed  aside  all  other  questions  and 
interests  but  this  one  of  Brantly's  freedom  from 
the  curse  that  lay  upon  her,  and  they  were  going 
to  settle  it  before  the  day  was  done.  And  they 
did  settle  it.  How  ?  Two  committees  were 
appointed,  each  consisting  of  five  of  the  most 
trusted  and  influential  men  of  the  town — one  a 
committee  of  conference  with  the  tavern-keepers, 
and  the  other  a  committee  on  subscriptions. 

Three  hours  later  the  people  came  together  in 
one  great  multitude  to  hear  the  report  of  these 
committees.  Mr.  Lyman  stood  up,  and  in  the 
profound  silence  that  reigned,  said,  with  a  thrill 
of  triumph  in  his  voice  : — 

"  The  victory  is  near  at  hand  !    Out  of  nineteen 


THE    ENEMY    CAST    OUT.  397 

tavern-keepers,  fifteen  have  agreed  to  close  their 
bar-rooms." 

At  this  announcement  the  people  rent  the  air 
with  cries  of  rejoicing. 

"  Four  are  defiant.  They  claim  protection 
under  the  law,  and  say  that  no  man  shall  interfere 
with  their  vested  rights." 

A  low  sullen  murmur  ran  through  the  great 
multitude. 

"  We  shall  not  lack  for  the  sinews  of  war  in 
this  fight,"  said  the  speaker,  as  the  murmur  died 
away.  "  All  the  money  that  can  possibly  be 
needed,  has  been  pledged." 

Another  jubilant  shout. 

"  We  shall  pay  for  and  destroy  the  liquor  of 
those  who  abandon  its  sale.  But  what  shall  be 
done  with  those  who  will  not  ?" 

Mr.  Lyman  paused;  and  the  sullen  murmur, 
as  the  sound  of  troubled  waters  was  heard  again. 

"  If  the  enemy  be  not  utterly  overthrown,  we 
cannot  dwell  in  safety." 


398  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"Cast  him  out!  Cast  him  out!"  The  cry 
rang  from  a  hundred  voices. 

"  He  must  be  cast  out,"  said  the  speaker. 
"  We  will  again  offer  him  terms ;  but  if  he  still 
refuse  capitulations,  then  we  will  drive  him  out, 
and  let  him  take  his  remedy  at  law.  He  can 
appeal  to  the  law ;  for  we  will  have  done  him 
violence,  and  the  law  will  give  him  damages. 
What  then  ?  What  are  the  damages  involved 
in  the  payment  of  a  few  hundred  or  a  few 
thousand  dollars  to  the  curse  of  this  liquor  traffic  ? 
If,  during  the  last  seven  years,  Brantly  had  paid 
ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  immunities  from 
this  curse,  would  she  not  be  a  richer  town  to-day  ? 
I  speak  not  of  the  greater  and  sadder  loss,  which 
has  no  money  valuation." 

"  Cast  him  out !  Drive  him  out !"  Not  from 
a  hundred,  but  now  from  more  than  a  thousand 
voices. 

And  it  was  done.  A  cloudless  November  sky 
bent  over  the  town  that  night;  and  the  clear 
shining  moon,  and  multitude  of  stars  that  looked 


THE    ENEMY    CAST    OUT.  399 

from  the  deep  expanse  had  in  them,  to  many 
eyes,  an  expression  of  almost  human  sympathy  ; 
and  the  peace  and  cairn  of  nature  fell  into  many 
hearts  which  had  long  been  tossing  on  troubled 
waters. 

Yes,  it  was  done.  The  enemy  was  cast  out; 
and  that  with  violence,  for  three  men  refused  all 
overtures,  and  held  to  their  right  under  the  law, 
in  evidence  of  which  they  displayed  their  licenses 
to  degrade  the  people  and  make  paupers  and 
criminals  out  of  sober  and  law-abiding  men. 
The  dealing  with  them  was  summary.  Their 
stock  of  beer  and  spirits  was  poured  into  the  street 
and  warning  given  that  if  a  new  supply  were 
obtained,  it  would  share  the  same  fate.  They 
could  appeal  from  the  people  to  the  law,  and  get 
what  damages  the  law  might  award  ;  but  their 
trade  in  Brantly  was  at  an  end  ! 

What  a  beautiful  day  was  that  which  broke 
next  morning  on  the  people!  Was  there  ever 
so  bright  a  sky  ?  Ever  such  peace  in  the  atmo 
sphere  ?  Neighbor  met  neighbor  with  hand-clasp 


400  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

ai?d  congratulation.  The  very  crape  that  hung 
on  the  door  of  the  dead  Fithian  had  a  smile  for 
the  people.  Who  mourned  for  him  ?  There 
might  be  gloom  in  the  dwelling  where  his  presence 
had  long  since  failed  to  bring  joy,  but  no  mourn 
ing.  There  might  be  trouble,  but  no  sorrow. 

Was  it  well  or  ill  that  the  people  did  this 
thing — did  it  with  violence — did  it  against  the 
law,  w7hich  gave  to  the  three  men,  whose  goods 
they  had  destroyed,  the  right  to  sell  intoxicating 
drinks  in  Brantly  ?  Had  three  thousand  men, 
women  and  children,  every  one  of  whom  might 
be  hurt  by  the  traffic  of  these  three,  no  common 
right  to  restrain  them  ?  to  cast  them  out  as  evil 
doers  whose  work  was  corrupting  and  debasing 
the  people  ?  Should  they  have  waited  long  years 
for  better  legislation  and  a  better  law  ;  respectful 
and  tender  of  the  right  to  curse  ?  Were  perishing 
souls  of  no  account  in  comparison  with  the  legal 
right  of  a  few  bad  men  to  compass  their  destruc 
tion  ?  Of  no  account  the  mother's  anguish,  the 
father's  sorrow  and  humiliation,  the  heart-break 


THE    ENEMY   CAST    OUT.  401 

of  the  stricken  wife,  or  the  beggary  of  chil 
dren? 

Answer  as  you  will.  As  for  Brantly,  in  her 
extremity  and  her  desperation  she  ignored  all 
laws  but  the  law  of  safety.  There  was  a  death- 
grip  at  her  throat  arid  she  must  be  free  of  that 
grip  while  strength  enough  to  break  its  strangling 
hold  remained.  And  with  a  struggle  that  was 
born  half  of  indignation  and  half  of  despair,  she 
threw  her  enemy  and  set  her  foot  upon  him 
drawing  herself  erect  as  she  did  so,  and  shaking 
her  limbs  with  the  strength  like  that  of  a  young 
Hercules,  which  came  flowing  into  them. 

Well  or  ill  for  Brantly  that  she  did  this  thing  ? 
Let  us  see.  She  had  broken  the  law,  and  to  the 
law  an  appeal  was  made  against  her.  Some  of 
her  most  prominent  citizens  were  arraigned  for 
assault,  and  for  conspiracy,  arid  for  other  crimes 
alleged  in  the  indictment  and  the  prosecution  was 
conducted  with  vigor  and  ability.  Even  while 
her  case  was  on  trial  an  attempt  was  made  to 
open  a  bar-room  ;  but  she  waited  for  no  decision 
26 


402  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

of  court  or  jury.  A  committee  of  citizens  gave 
immediate  warning  to  the  offender,  and  on  no 
heed  being  taken,  his  liquor  was  destroyed  ere  a 
single  glass  could  be  sold.  Brantly  had  shut  the 
door  against  an  enemy  from  which  she  had 
suffered  most  grievous  things ;  and,  cost  what  it 
might,  she  meant  to  keep  it  shut.  In  any  event 
this  cost  would  be  small  in  comparison  with  the 
loss  that  must  surely  come  if  the  enemy  were 
again  permitted  to  enter. 

The  law  was  clear,  and  in  the  trial  of  the  case 
against  Brantly,  the  law  was  sustained,  and 
damages  awarded.  Two  saloons  were  opened 
within  a  week  after  this  decision,  but  not  a  glass 
of  liquor  was  permitted  to  be  sold  in  either  of 
them.  A  warning,  promptly  made,  an  hour's 
notice  given,  and  then  summary  proceedings. 

Brantly  was  in  earnest  and  sternly  resolute. 
She  had  counted  the  cost,  weighed  all  the  con 
sequences ;  estimated  the  loss  and  the  gain.  She 
had  put  her  hand  to  the  plough  and  did  not  mean 
to  look  back  until  she  had  cut  her  furrow  to  the 


THE    ENEMY   CAST    OUT.  403 

end.  The  efforts  of  her  enemy  to  regain  a  foot 
hold,  only  made  her  the  more  determined  to  keep 
him  out.  The  anguish  of  her  wounding  was 
yet  too  deep ;  the  halting  of  her  hurt  limbs  too 
manifest  for  forgetfnlness.  She  was  learning  to 
know  what  the  old  saying  involved,  "  Eternal 
vigilance  is  the  price  of  safety." 

For  awhile  the  battle  was  fierce  ;  but  no  breach 
was  made  in  her  lines.  For  defence  she  was 
ready  to  pay  her  thousands,  and  her  tens  of 
thousands,  if  needed;  but  nothing  as  tribute  to 
her  cruel  foe,  whose  debasing  emissaries  and  ex 
hausting  tax-gatherers  she  had  driven  from  among 
her  people. 

Six  months  of  conflict  and  then  there  was 
peace  in  the  land.  The  men  whose  bar-rooms 
had  been  closed  writh  violence  and  whose  property 
had  been  destroyed,  did  not  in  any  case  get  the 
amount  of  damages  claimed.  Neither  judges  nor 
juries  leaned  to  their  side.  If  the  law  had  its 
course,  that  law  might  be  vindicated,  its  meager 
awards  brought  no  true  victory,  but  real  discom- 


404  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

fiture  to  those  who  appealed  to  it  for  immunity 
and  protection.  A  ten  thousand  dollar  damage 
case  gave  the  prosecutor  three  hundred,  scarcely 
enough  to  pay  his  lawyer's  fees ;  and  the  claim 
for  a  thousand  dollars,  after  months  of  litigation 
and  the  expenditure  of  nearly  four  hundred,  was 
settled  by  the  payment  of  fifty  dollars.  So  of 
all  the  suits  brought  against  the  town  through 
its  representative  men,  it  had  the  real  victory 
in  every  instance. 

After  six  months,  as  we  have  said,  there  was 
rest  and  safety  for  Brantly.  And  what  had  it 
cost  in  money  for  this  rest  and  safety  ?  Just 
three  thousand  dollars.  One  thousand  for  dam 
ages  to  property  and  as  penalties  for  violence 
done  to  the  legal  rights  of  citizens,  and  two 
thousand  for  court  charges  and  counsel  fees. 
That  was  all.  But  the  gain?  It  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  computation. 


BRANTLY   REDEEMED.  405 


CHAPTER   XX. 

BRANTLY    REDEEMED. 

A  FTER  a  long  winter,  with  its  desolate  fields, 
and  leafless  trees,  and  ice-bound  streams 
and  rivers,  what  transformations  follow  swiftly 
on  the  approach  of  Spring!  The  moment  the 
ice-king's  reign  is  broken,  and  the  South  sends 
her  sweet  warm  breath  into  the  air,  the  tender 
grass  comes  "  creeping,  creeping,"  and  covering 
the  brown  fields  and  bare  wayside  places  with 
its  soft  green,  carpet.  Buds  swell  on  the  hard 
and  seemingly  lifeless  branches,  and  the  leaves, 
which  had  lain  in  them  hidden  and  potential  for 
months,  unfold  in  the  caressing  wind.  Flowers 
breathe  out  their  delicious  odors,  and  song  birds 
fill  the  air  with  melody.  So  steady  and  rapid 


406         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

these  transformations,  that  they  are  accomplished 
almost  before  we  have  time  to  note  the  changes, 
or  follow  their  beautiful  progression. 

Thus  it  was  in  Brantly  after  the  breaking  of 
her  long  and  desolate  winter.  How  quickly  were 
changes  visible.  You  saw  them  not  only  in  the 
firmer  bearing,  and  more  uplifted  countenances 
of  the  people;  but  in  the  improving  aspect  of 
every  thing  about  them.  As  the  grass  is  seen  in 
all  places  where  it  can  strike  its  roots ;  as  well 
in  nooks,  and  corners,  and  by-ways,  as  out  in  the 
broad  meadows — covering  bare  places  and  mak 
ing  attractive  what  was  before  unsightly — so  the 
first  signs  of  new  life  that  was  coming  to  Brantly 
were  visible  everywhere  in  the  restoration  of 
order  and  neatness  and  beauty  to  hundreds  of 
places  where  neglect  had  long  been  visible. 

The  people  were  taking  heart  again.  There 
was  hope  in  building  up  the  waste  places,  for 
the  destroyer  had  been  driven  from  the  land, 
and  the  fear  of  his  consuming  breath  and  iron 
heel  was  gone.  Let  us  open  the  doors  of  some 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  407 

of  the  homes  of  those  people,  and  go  in  and  see 
how  it  is  really  faring  with  them.     It  is  a  year ' 
after  the  struggle  and  victory  we  have  recorded- 
and  judging  from  the  aspect  of  the  town,  and  the 
quiet  movements  and    untroubled  countenances 
of  those  who  are  abroad  and  in  places  of  busi 
ness,  we  should  say  that  "  All  is  well !"     But  the 
verdure  that  covers  the  earth  often  only  conceals 
some  deeper  desolation  of  the  winter  which  the 
summer  may  hide  but  not  restore. 

Drear  November  without,  and  the  dripping 
of  rain  and  moaning  of  troubled  winds.  Just 
such  a  night  as  fell  on  Brantly  a  year  before, 
when  she  covered  her  head  in  her  sorrow  and 
shame  arid  sat  down  in  sackcloth  and  ashes. 

We  enter  a  room  in  which  we  find  four  persons. 
It  is  well  furnished  and  has  an  aspect  of  comfort. 
There  is  a  book-case  well  filled  with  books,  while 
a  few  good  pictures  and  engravings  hang  on  the 
walls — warmth  and  light  pervading  the  whole 
atmosphere.  The  inmates  are  a  gentleman  and 
lady  past  the  prime  of  life,  and  their  son  and 


408  THE    BAR-BOOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

daughter.  The  young  man  is  twenty-two  and 
the  girl  not  over  sixteen.  In  the  face  of  the 
elderly  woman,  whose  hair  is  almost  like  snow, 
is  an  expression  that  causes  you  to  look  into  it 
more  closely.  You  do  not  quite  understand  the 
meaning  of  what  you  see  in  this  face.  It  is 
handsome,  and  there  is  a  freshness  of  complexion 
and  a  smoothness  of  skin  that  indicates  fewer 
years  than  the  snowy  hair.  She  sits  a  little  way 
from  the  centre-table  on  which  a  shaded  lamp  is 
burning,  with  some  light  work  in  her  hand;  and 
takes  no  part  in  the  conversation  that  is  going 
on.  But  when  the  young  man  rises,  and  moves 
towards  the  door  of  the  room,  she  lifts  her  head 
quickly,  and  says  : — 

"  You're  not  going  out,  Henry  ? 

There  is  a  shade  of  anxiety  on  her  gentle  face 
and  large  sad  eyes.  The  young  man  turns  back 
from  the  door,  and  crossing  the  room  to  where 
his  mother  is  sitting,  lays  his  hand  affectionately 
upon  her. 

"Yes,  mother,"  he    answers,  smiling   as   he 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  409 

speaks,  and  without  any  sign  of  annoyance  in  his 
manner.  "  Mr.  Lyman  is  going  to  examine  me 
on  several  points  to-night.  Next  week,  you 
know,  I  am  to  be  admitted  to  the  bar;  that  is  if 
I  can  meet  the  requirements." 

"Oh,  there's  no  fear  of  that.  You'll  be  all 
right  in  the  examination."  A  flush  of  pride  comes 
into  the  mother's  face  and  takes  a  shade  of  sadness 
from  her  beautiful  eyes,  which  are  fixed  lovingly 
upon  her  son.  Then,  as  the  light  goes  slowly 
out  of  them  she  says,  while  the  troubled  expres 
sion  creeps  back  into  her  voice — 

"  I'm  afraid  to  let  you  go  out  to-night,  Henry." 

"There's  no  more  danger,  you  know,"  he 
answers  in  assuring  tones.  "That  is  all  past;  I 
wonder  you've  forgotten  it." 

"Oh  yes!'1  the  light  striking  into  her  face 
again.  "  So  it  is  !  So  it  is  !  Fithian  is  dead — 
dead.  I  had  forgotten.  He  can't  hurt  you  now." 

She  bends  again  over  the  light  work  in  her 
hands.  Her  son  lingers  for  a  moment  or  two, 
gazing  at  her  with  love  and  pity  in  his  eyes,  and 


410  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

then  goes  out,  shutting  the  door  softly.  As  it 
closes,  Mrs.  Irwin,  whom  the  reader  has  recog 
nised,  looks  up,  and  listens  to  her  son's  retreating 

x 

footsteps,  until  the  sound  is  lost.  Then  her  hands 
fall  idly  upon  her  lap,  and  she  sits  motionless. 
Her  husband  raises  his  eyes  from  the  book  he 
has  been  reading  and  lets  them  rest  upon  her. 
She  is  not  at  first  aware  that  he  is  observing  her 
closely.  But  in  a  few  moments  his  steady  gaze 
draws  her  eyes  towards  him.  There  is  a  smile 
on  his  face  now  that  is  quickly  reflected  from 
hers. 

"I  was  talking  with  Judge  Ly on  to-day  about 
Henry  ;  would  you  like  to  know  what  he  said  ?" 

The  whole  aspect  of  the  mother  changes  ;  she 
is  all  alive  with  interest. 

"  He  considers  him  the  most  promising  young 
man  in  the  county,  and  says  that  he  is  bound 
to  make  his  mark." 

"  Dear  boy!  And  Fithian  is  dead;  and 
there's  no  more  danger.  What  an  awful  man 
he  was !" 


BEANTLY    REDEEMED.  411 

"  No  more  danger  from  him,  thank  God !" 
responds  Mr.  Irwin,  bending  to  his  wife's  fancy. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  of  his  being  admitted  to 
the  bar?"  Henry's  sister  speaks. 

"None  whatever.  He's  been  a  close  stu 
dent." 

"I  saw  Marie  Sylvester  to-day;  and  she  says 
that  Frank  is  going  into  business  with  his 
father." 

"  The  best  thing  he  can  do.  Hasn't  the  stuff 
in  him  from  which  successful  lawyers  are  made. 
What  does  Marie  think  of  it  ?" 

"Oh,  she's  satisfied.  Anything  for  her,  so  its 
all  right  with  Frank.  She's  so  fond  of  him." 

"  Dear  child !  How  I  did  pity  her  !  And  she 
was  so  true,  and  patient,  and  hopeful." 

"Fithian's  dead!  It's  all  right  now!"  Mrs. 
Irwin  leans  toward  her  husband,  and  speaks  in 
a  low,  confidential  tone.  "It  was  Fithian  who 
had  them  all  down  you  know;  and  he'd  have  mur 
dered  them  every  one,  if  God  hadn't  killed  him 
"  hushing  her  voice  to  a  whisper  on  the  last 


412  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

words  of  the  sentence.  "  It  was  God  who  killed 
him,  thej-  say  ;  and  that  makes  it  all  right.  I'm 
glad  it  was  God." 

"  Yes,  that  makes  it  all  right.  And  none  of 
us  need  be  afraid  any  more/'  Mr.  Irwin  says, 
with  an  assuring  smile.  "And  now,  dear,"  he 
added,  with  a  more  serious  air,  "  isn't  it  time  for 
us  to  be  done  with  the  wretched  past?  The 
night  is  over,  and  a  new  day  has  broken  upon 
us.  There  are  no  more  wild  beasts  in  our  land. 
We  are  dwelling  in  safety  ;  going  out  and  coming 
in,  with  none  to  hurt  or  make  us  afraid.  Let  us 
show  our  thankfulness  to  God  for  this  great 
deliverance  by  accepting  it  with  happy  hearts." 

The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Irwin  are  fixed  intently  on 
her  husband  as  he  speaks.  First  a  look  of  doubt 
and  wonder;  then  a  swift  flash  of  intelligent 
surprise  ;  then  an  eager  reaching  out  of  the  arms 
as  she  throws  herself  sobbing  and  trembling  on 
his  bosom.  Until  this  agitation  subsides  Mr. 
Irwin  holds  his  wife  closely  to  his  breast,  not 
speaking.  When  she  is  calm,  he  pushes  her  back 


BRANTLY    EEDEEMED.  413 

gently,  farther  and  farther  away  until  he  can  see 
her  face.  One  long  look,  and  then,  with  a  new 
light  corning  into  his  own,  he  draws  her  down 
again,  saying  in  a  low  voice, 

"  All  is  well.  God  is  very  good  to  us ;  and 
we  will  bless  His  holy  name." 

She  does  not  answer.  Mr.  Irwin  looks  towards 
his  daughter,  who  comes  and  stands  near  him, 
pale  and  agitated. 

"  Here  is  Helen,"  he  says  in  a  quiet  tone. 
Mrs.  Irwin  reached  out  her  hand,  but  does  not 
lift  her  face. 

"  Mother  dear !"  Her  hand  tightens  on  that 
of  her  daughter.  Helen  lays  her  lips  on  the  cheek 
of  her  mother,  pressing  them  down  with  loving 
fervor. 

As  one  awaking  from  a  dream,  Mrs.  Irwin 
lifts  herself  slowly  and  looks  first  at  her  husband, 
then  at  her  daughter,  and  then  around  the  room. 
There  is  a  puzzled  air  about  her.  In  a  little  while 
her  countenance  grows  serious. 


414  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

"  Henry.  Where  is  Henry  ?"  Her  eyes  come 
back  to  her  husband. 

"  Henry's  all  right.  You  know  that  he's  to 
be  admitted  to  the  bar  to-morrow." 

«0 — h!  Id  forgotten!  Admitted  to  the 
bar?" 

"  Yes.  He's  been  studying  hard  for  a  year, 
and  Mr.  Lyman  says  that  he's  one  of  the  most 
promising  students  he  ever  had  in  his  office. 
I'm  right  proud  of  him." 

"For  a  year  !"  Mr.  Irwin  sees  bewilderment 
in  his  wife's  face. 

"  Yes  for  a  whole  year,  and  he's  done  splen 
didly." 

"  I  don't  know.  For  a  whole  year  ?  studying 
law  ?"  Mrs.  Irwin  places  both  hands  to  her 
temples. 

"  Yes.  And  to-morrow  he  will  be  admitted  to 
the  bar." 

Mrs.  Irwin  drops  her  eyes  to  the  floor  and  sits 
still  for  almost  the  space  of  a  minute.  When  she 


BRANTLY   REDEEMED.  415 

raises  them  and  looks  at  her  husband,  they  are 
full  of  tears. 

"  Such  a  long,  long  night !"  she  murmurs. 

"  But  morning  at  last,  blessed  be  God !"  ex 
claims  Mr.  Irvvin,  with  joy  in  his  tones. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  of  the  morning  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  in  almost  a  single  sentence.  Brantly 
is  the  good  old  Brantly  again.  No  saloons  no 
intemperance,  no  paupers,  no  criminals!" 

"I  had  a  dream  that  it  was  so;  and  that 
Fithian  was  dead." 

"  Ail  true." 

t;  No  more  saloons  in  dear  old  Brantly  !  My 
heart  is  singing  for  joy." 

Mrs.  Irwin's  face  is  rippling  now  with  excite 
ment;  and  she  is  trembling  all  over.  But  the 
light  in  her  eyes  is  clearer;  the  far  away  look 
of  mystery  is  going  out  of  them ;  and  in  its  stead 
is  coming  back  the  old  intelligence. 

Not  far  away  is  a  poorer  home  than  this.  In 
the  small,  meagerly  furnished,  but  clean  and 
tidy  living  room,  we  find  Mrs.  McAlister,  her 


41G  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

man  and  her  boy — the  boy  taller  and  stouter 
than  the  man.  The  latter  is  smoking  his  pipe, 
and  the  former  sits  by  the  table  reading.  Mrs. 
McAlister  is  at  work  mending  some  worn  gar 
ments. 

"  I'm  right  glad  about  Charley  Fithian,"  Mrs. 
McAlister  says,  as  she  looks  up  from  her  work 
and  across  the  table  towards  her  son.  "He's 
book-keeper  now  !" 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Grubb  took  him  out  of  the  factory 
to-day." 

"  Who's  going  to  have  his  place?"  asks  the 
mother. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  but  Charley  says  he'll  speak 
a  good  word  for  me,  and  that'll  go  a  great  ways 
with  Mr.  Grubb;  for  you  see  he's  taken  to  Char 
ley,  who's  just  as  smart  as  he  can  be." 

"Smarter  than  his  father;  and  has  in  him 
the  makin'  of  a  great  deal  better  man,"  says  Mr. 
McAlister,  as  he  draws  his  pipe  from  his  month 
and  blows  out  a  great  puff  of  smoke. 

"  He'd  like  to  have  been  the  ruination  of  him," 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  417 

rejoins  his  wife,  a  sharper  quality  coming  into 
her  voice. 

"  'Deed,  and  ye  may  say  that !  And  the 
ruination  of  plenty  besides !" 

A  knock  is  heard  at  the  door.  "  Come  in," 
calls  out  Mrs.  McAlister ;  and  a  young  man,  in 
ordinary  working  clothes,  enters. 

"  Going  to  the  hall,  to-night,  Andy?"  he  asks. 

"Yes,"  and  young  McAlister  shuts  his  book 
and  rises. 

"Is  this  the  lecture  night?"  inquired  Mrs. 
McAlister,  in  an  interested  voice,  as  she  throws 
a  pleasant  glance  at  the  young  man  who  had 
called  for  her  son. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  and  we  are  to  have  philosophi 
cal  experiments." 

The  two  young  men  go  out,  and  Mrs.  McAlis 
ter  is  left  alone  with  her  husband. 

"  That  Tom  Glover's  a  right  down  nice  kind 
of  a  chap,  isn't  he  ?"  remarks  the  latter. 

"It's  just  a  wonder  to  see  how  he's  coming 
out;  and  he  was  one  of  the  wildest.  Doesn't 
27 


418  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

seem  as  if  it  could  all  be  true,"  is  answered. 
"  Dear  !  dear  !  Where  there's  rum  there's  ruin, 
sure." 

The  old  man  draws  his  breath  strongly ;  sighs ; 
replaces  his  pipe  and  goes  on  smoking. 

"  Ram  and  ruin  ;  rum  and  ruin," — Mrs.  Mc- 
Alister's  thoughts  are  busy,  and  she  talks  on  as 
she  thinks — "  they  always  go  together.  When 
you  see  one,  you  may  be  sure  the  other  isn't  far 
off.  If  my  Andy'd  gone  out  with  Tom  Glover  a 
year  ago,  d'ye  think  I'd  be  sittin'  here  feelin'  as 
unconcerned  as  I  do  now  ?  I  guess  not !  Well, 
well!  it's  something  to  be  thankful  for.  And 
to  see  him  goin'  to  church  on  Sundays,  dressed 
respectable  and  not  ashamed  to  look  any  body 
in  the  face." 

"  And  to  be  gettin'  good  wages,  and  never 
idlin'  a  day,"  says  the  father,  drawing  out  his 
pipe  again.  "  Mr.  Grubb  told  me  only  a  week 
ago,  that  he  hadn't  a  fault  to  find  with  him  ;  and 
he's  a  pretty  exactin'  man,  you  know.  If  you 
can  satisfy  Grubb  it's  a  feather  in  your  cap." 


BEANTLY    REDEEMED.  419 

The  old  "  Fountain  Inn,"  Jacob  Grover,  land 
lord,  has  changed  bub  little  in  the  seven  or  eight 
years  that  have  passed  since  the  reader  met  Mr. 
Norman  for  the  first  time  in  its  plain  little  parlor. 
It  has  still  the  reputation  of  being  the  best  tavern 
on  the  Bedford  'pike.  The  only  noticeable  change 
is  in  the  brighter  and  fresher  appearance  of  things, 
inside  and  out.  Andrew  McPherson,  the  painter, 
had  almost  beggared  his  family  through  intem 
perance.  To  give  him  a  helping  hand,  after  the 
saloons  were  all  closed  and  temptation  out  of  his 
way,  Grover  set  him  to  work  to  do  some  painting 
on  his  house.  The  pure  white  of  the  doors  and 
windows  of  the  first  room  which  came  from  the 
painter's  hand,  made  the  next  room  look  so  dingy 
and  shabby  in  the  landlord's  eyes  that  McPherson 
was  ordered  to  renovate  this  one  also;  thus 
putting  its  neighbor  beyond  to  shame.  Then  the  . 
painter  was  told  to  extend  his  work  a  little 
farther.  So  from  room  to  room  he  passed,  and 
through  halls  and  passages,  until  the  whole  inte 
rior  was  fresh  and  bright.  Outside  shutters,  and 


420  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

doors,  and  window  frames  came  next  in  order. 
Of  course  porches,  clapboards  and  palings  looked 
go  stained  and  weatherworn  after  this,  that 
nothing  was  left  for  Grover  but  to  order  the 
painter  to  keep  on  with  his  work,  which  was  not 
completed  until  the  Fountain  Inn  stood  out  in 
new  attire  from  basement  to  attic. 

Long  before  McPherson  was  through  with  his 
job  at  the  hotel  he  had  orders  for  work  that 
would  keep  him  busy  for  several  months.  People 
who  hadn't  cared  much  how  their  houses  and 
fences  looked,  were  beginning  to  take  interest  in 
these  things  again,  as  business  revived,  and  money 
passed  from  hand  to  hand  more  freely.  The 
dreadful  waste  of  drinking  and  loss  of  income 
that  ever  attend  this  curse,  being  over  now, 
something  to  spend  for  beauty  and  taste  was  left 
with  almost  every  one.  Turn  where  you  would 
and  signs  of  thrift  and  comfort  met  your  eyes. 
No  idlers  were  seen  at  the  street  corners,  nor 
loungers  in  front  of  public  houses.  The  people 
were  all  busy  again,  and  each  in  his  sphere  and 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  421 

measure  prosperous ;  but  the  old  peace  of  mind 
and  sense  of  security  were  never  fully  restored 
to  Brantly.  In  every  loss  of  good,  something  is 
lost  for  ever.  With  every  inroad  of  an  enemy 
something  is  destroyed  that  is  never  rebuilt. 
There  were  those  in  town  who  would  gladly  have 
given  all  their  worldly  possessions,  if  some  of  the 
records  of  the  past  few  years  could  have  been 
blotted  out  of  their  memories. 

The  "Fountain  Inn,"  as  we  have  said,  has 
changed  but  little,  except  in  the  freshness  of  its 
paint,  and  in  a  general  improvement  in  the  ap 
pearance  of  things,  inside  and  out.  The  land 
lord  has  grown  something  greyer ;  but  does  not 
seem  to  have  lost  any  of  his  good  qualities.  The 
guests  that  come  are  greeted  with  the  same  old 
heartiness,  and  passed  out  with  the  same  old 
pleasant  smile  and  hand-shake  when  they  go; 
not  one  of  them  the  worse  for  his  stay  at  the 
Fountain  Inn. 

A  little  way  from  the  fire,  which  has  been 
kindled  in  the  parlor  on  this  chill  November 


422  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

evening,  sits  Mr.  Norman.  His  home  is  still  at 
the  Fountain  Inn.  He  looks  considerably  older 
than  when  we  first  met  him  in  the  parlor  where 
we  find  him  to-night.  For  seven  years  he  had 
stood  in  the  front  of  the  battle  that  raged  in 
Brantly;  at  times  almost  deserted,  but  never 
dismayed ;  and  he  had  come  out  of  it,  through 
victory,  greatly  shorn  of  strength,  and  with  a 
loss  of  vitality  which  peace  had  not  fully  re 
stored. 

He  is  sitting  alone,  with  his  head  bent  forward 
and  his  chin  touching  his  breast,  so  absent  in 
thought,  that  he  does  not,  at  first,  notice  the 
entrance  of  a  man,  who  comes  in  from  the  office 
with  a  quiet,  almost  stealthy  step,  and  takes  a 
chair  just  in  front  of  the  fire.  There  is  some 
thing  crouching  and  abject,  but  at  the  same  time 
alert,  about  this  man.  His  clothes  are  old  and 
partly  worn ;  looking  as  if  they  were  cast  off 
garments  of  a  fashion  years  gone  by.  His  face 
is  mean  in  quality  ;  the  eyes  small,  restless  and 
sinister;  the  hair  cropped  short.  His  recently- 


BRANTLY    EEDEEMED.  423 

shaven  beard  is  just  beginning  to  grow  and 
darken  his  chin  and  cheeks.  He  has  scarcely 
taken  his  place  in  front  of  the  fire,  before  the 
landlord  comes  in;  and  after  looking  at  him  for 
a  moment  or  two,  glances  towards  Mr.  Norman 
with  a  sign  that  he  has  something  to  communi 
cate.  Grover  goes  back  to  the  office  where  he 
is  soon  joined  by  Mr.  Norman. 

"  Did  you  notice  that  fellow  ?"  he  asked  of  the 
latter. 

"  Not  particularly." 

"  He's  just  come  over  in  the  stage,  and  regis 
ters  his  name  as  Jesse  Haight.  Now  it's  my 
guess  that  he's  a  jail  bird,  and  that  his  real  name 
is  Andrew  Hyer." 

"  I  never  heard  of  Hyer's  being  sent  to  jail." 

"  Nor  I.  But  fellows  like  him  pull  up  in 
state's  prison  now  and  then.  His  cropped  head 
and  newly-sprouting  beard  look  very  suspicious. 
Ha !  ha !  I  can't  help  thinking  of  his  swaggering 
self-importance  the  first  time  he  came  here ;  and 
how  I  cut  his  comb.  He  looks  shockingly  the 


424  THE    BAR-ROOMS    AT    BRANTLY. 

worse  for  wear  ;  and  is  as  humble  as  a  dog.  But 
what  on  earth  brings  the  foul  bird  here  ?  There 
is  no  carrion  in  Brantly  for  him  to  feed  on." 

"And  you  really  think  this  is  Hyer?" 

"  I  don't  think  anything  about  it.  When  I 
once  take  the  guage  of  a  man,  I've  got  it  always. 
As  for  Hyer,  I'd  know  him  in  the  disguise  of  a 
Turk  or  a  wild  Indian.  I  made  him  out  the 
instant  I  put  my  eyes  on  him.  He  didn't  come 
for  any  good  the  first  time  he  set  his  foot  in  our 
place,  and  you  may  be  sure  he's  after  no  good 
now.  Fellows  like  him  are  never  after  any 
good." 

Mr.  Norman's  face  grows  clouded ;  but  it  clears 
again  in  a  few  moments.  He  turns  from  the 
landlord  and  goes  back  to  the  parlor.  As  he 
enters,  the  man  sitting  by  the  fire  gives  him  a 
quick,  uneasy  glance,  and  then  drops  his  eyes. 

"  A  raw,  unpleasant  evening,"  Mr.  Norman 
remarked. 

"  Yes,  sir.     Very  disagreeable." 

There  is  no  mistaking  the  voice. 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  425 

"  From  New  York  T  Now  the  man  on  regis 
tering  his  name,  had  given  no  place  of  residence. 
He  does  not  answer  this  inquiry ;  but  makes  an 
uneasy  movement,  and  turns  his  face  from  Mr. 
Norman's  keenly-searching  eyes. 

"This  is  Andrew  Hyer,  I  believe?"  Mr. 
Norman  speaks  calmly,  and  with  neither  doubt 
nor  question  in  his  voice,  which  has  in  it  a  tone 
of  severity. 

The  man  is  on  his  feet  instantly;  and  Mr. 
Norman  sees  a  red  gleam  in  his  eyes  as  from  a 
hidden  and  smoldering  fire.  There  is  a  nervous 
twitching  at  one  side  of  his  upper  lip,  and  the 
glitter  of  white  teeth,  giving  a  cruel  expression 
to  his  mouth.  But  he  controls  himself;  and  the 
abject  manner  returns. 

"  Mr.  Hyer  ?"  His  name  is  repeated,  and  with 
a  question  now  in  the  voice  of  the  speaker. 

"  Yes ;  that  is  my  name."  He  speaks  dog 
gedly. 

"  What  is  your  business  here  ?" 


426  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT    BRANTLY. 

He  is  annoyed  at  the  question — hesitates — and 
then  replies, 

"  I  have  some  business  with  Mrc  Fithian." 

"  With  Charley  Fithian  ?" 

«  No— with  his  father !" 

"  Dennis  Fithian  has  been  dead  for  a  year !" 

The  man  catches  his  breath,  and  there  is  a 
dash  of  pallor  in  his  face. 

"Dead!"  His  mouth  falls  apart.  His  form 
shrinks.  He  looks  abject  and  helpless. 

"  Yes ;  and  for  a  year.  I  wonder  you  have 
not  heard  of  it." 

The  man  drops  back  again  into  the  chair  from 
which  he  has  risen. 

"  Is  his  son  Charley  in  town  ?"  he  asks. 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  him  ?" 

"  What  do  you  want  with  Charley  Fithian  ?" 

There  is  a  momentary  gleam  of  the  man's 
white  teeth  as  his  upper  lip  twitches  nervously. 
He  would  bite  if  he  dared. 

"I  wish  to  see  him,"  he  answers. 


BRANTLY   REDEEMED.  427 

"  I  have  my  doubts.  Mr.  Hyer,  as  to  his  caring 
very  much  about  seeing  you." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?" 

There  is  a  flash  of  anger  in  the  man's  eyes, 
but  weakness  and  dismay  about  his  mouth. 

"  For  the  simple  reason,  that  Charley  Fithian 
and  you  are  not  walking  in  the  same  ways." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 

"  The  case  is  plain.  Charley  is  a  sober,  honest, 
industrious  young  man." 

As  Mr.  Norman  says  this,  he  looks  Hyer  all 
over,  from  head  to  foot,  two  or  three  times,  with 
a  meaning  expression  in  his  face,  wherein  is  no 
sign  of  courtesy,  but  sternness  and  rebuke  in 
stead. 

"  Once,  sir/'  he  continued,  with  increasing 
severity,  "you  helped  to  lead  him  astray;  but 
this  cannot  be  again.  He  knows  you,  and  I 
know  you,  and  all  Brantly  knows  you.  Men 
like  you  we  have  cast  out  and  utterly  rej'.v.ted." 
The  man  seems  as  one  beaten  down  by  heavy 
blows. 


428         THE  BAR-ROOMS  AT  BRANTLY. 

"  I  must  get  a  word  with  Charley,"  he  says, 
looking  up  almost  piteously  at  Mr.  Norman. 
"  You  see,  sir,  I've  been  sick  ;  and  I'm  all  played 
out ;  all  broken  to  pieces.  Truth  to  tell,  Mr. 
Norman,  I  havn't  a  dollar  to  bless  myself  with. 
Took  the  last  cent  I  had  to  get  here." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  you,  but  evil  ways  are  never 
safe  ways ;  sooner  or  later  they  end  in  disaster. 
I  have  my  doubts  if  a  word  with  Charley  will 
do  you  any  good.  He's  only  getting  moderate 
wages  at  the  old  canning  establishment,  and  out 
of  this  he  is  helping  his  mother.  His  father  ran 
through  with  nearly  every  thing  before  he  died 
— got  drunken  and  worthless,  as  might  have  been 
expected — and  all  his  widow  has  left  is  the  house 
she  lives  in,  and  a  few  hundreds  a  year.  So  you 
can  see  that  there  is  little  or  no  chance  for  help 
in  that  quarter,  even  if  there  were  any  will  to 
extend  it,  of  which  I  have  serious  doubts.  At 
your  first  coming,  you  brought  a  curse  to  this 
family  and  a  curse  to  this  town,  the  memory 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  429 

whereof  is  very  bitter;  and  your  name  has  been 
cast  out  as  evil !" 

"  What  am  I  to  do,  Mr.  Norman  ?"  Hyer  is 
utterly  broken  down.  His  voice  trembles.  All 
manliness  of  spirit  has  gone  out  of  him. 

"  Get  away  from  here  as  quickly  as  possible. 
It  is  no  place  for  a  man  like  you.  Brantly  is  to 
day  what  you  found  it  over  seven  years  ago — 
without  a  bar-roorn  or  dram-shop  in  any  of  its 
quiet  streets — and  the  people  stand  sternly 
pledged  to  maintain  this  order  of  things." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  get  away,  Mr.  Norman  ? 
My  last  dollar  was  spent  in  coming  here." 

Mr.  Norman  draws  out  his  watch  and  looks  at 
the  time. 

" In  an  hour,"  he  says,  "the  stage  leaves  here 

for  the station,  with  passengers  for  the  down 

train.  I  give  you  the  chance  of  returning  to 
New  York,  to-night.  Will  you  accept  of  it  ?" 

"  I  will,  sir;  I  will,  most  gladly,  and  thank 
you  a  hundred  times." 


430  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

Still  abject  in  manner,  and  now  almost  cring 
ing. 

"  Very  well.  Supper  will  be  ready  in  a  few 
minutes.  I'll  settle  for  it,  and  pay  your  fare  to 
the  city.  In  the  mean  time,  take  my  advice, 
and  draw  as  little  observation  upon  yourself  as 
possible.  If  it  should  become  known  that  you 
are  here,  I'm  afraid  that  some  unpleasant  inci 
dents  might  attend  on  your  departure." 

Hyer  turns  a  little  pale. 

"  Not  any  attempt  at  personal  violence.  I 
don't  mean  that/'  Mr.  Norman  says.  "  Brantly 
would  never  forget  herself  so  far.  But  a  crowd 
might  gather  ;  and  in  that  case,  your  going  away 
might  not  be  as  quiet  and  orderly  as  either  you 
or  I  would  like  to  have  it.  Better  return  as  you 
came,  without  observation." 

When  the  stage  drove  out  of  town  on  that 
dreary,  dripping  November  night,  it  carried  a 
solitary  passenger,  who  sat  miserably  crouching 
in  a  corner  of  the  back  seat.  His  name  was 
Andrew  Hyer.  This  was  his  last  appearance  in 


BRANTLY    REDEEMED.  431 

the  town.     And,  in  the  homely,  but  expressive 
language  of  an  old  couplet — 

"  Whither  he  went,  and  how  he  fared, 
Nobody  knew,  and  nobody  cared  !" 

There  was  no  carcass  in  Brantly  for  the  gath 
ering  of  eagles;  arid,  so,  lighting  for  a  moment, 
our  bird  of  prey,  scared  from  his  brief  resting- 
place,  took  up  his  flight  again  and  passed  to 
other  regions. 


432  THE   BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

CONCLUSION. 

/~\NE  scene  more,  and  then  we  drop  the  curtain. 
A  young  mother  sitting  with  a  baby  in  her 
arms,  its  head  a  mass  of  golden  curls  lying  close 
against  her  bosom.  She  is  singing  a  low  "  hush- 
a-bye,"  and  her  voice  has  in  it  an  undertone  of 
sweet  content.  Now  and  then  her  song  is  inter 
mitted,  and  she  lifts  her  head  and  hearkens  as 
the  wind  takes  a  deeper  tone,  or  the  rain  drops 
strike  against  the  windows ;  but  no  shade  of 
anxiety  comes  into  her  fair  young  face. 

A  sound  of  approaching  feet  is  heard,  and  by 
the  brightening  eyes  and  happy  look  you  know 
that  it  is  the  husband  and  father  who  is  coming. 
His  step  is  firm  and  quick.  Love  is  drawing  him 


CONCLUSION.  433 

homeward  with  strong  and  steady  hands.  A 
little  three-year-old  girl,  who  has  been  lying 
half  a  sleep  on  the  floor,  waiting  for  her  papa's 
good-night  hug  and  kiss,  starts  up  and  is  at  the 
door  when  it  opens.  A  leap  and  she  is  in  her 
father's  arms,  clasping  his  neck,  and  covering  his 
face  with  the  warm  impression  of  her  rosy  lips. 

How  full  of  love  and  tender  confidence  are  the 
bright  blue  eyes  that  meet  his  own,  as  he  looks 
at  the  young  wife  who  has  been  waiting  for  his 
return. 

"  You  are  late,  Frank,  dear."  Not  with  any 
doubt  or  complaint  in  the  voice. 

"  Yes.  Several  large  orders  were  shipped  to 
day,  and  the  bills  had  to  go  by  to-night's  mail. 
I  promised  father  to  see  them  off;  and  it  took 
longer  than  I  expected." 

"  It's  all  arranged  about  your  going  into  the 
business  ?" 

"  0  yes  ;  and  father  seems  so  pleased  about  it ; 
and  to  tell  the  truth,  Marie,  I'm  glad  the  thing's 
settled.  Law  is  up-hill  work,  and  you've  got  to 
28 


434  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

wait  for  half  a  lifetime  before  you  can  make  a 
name  or  get  a  decently-paying  practice.  But 
father's  business  is  all  made,  and  I've  only  to  step 
into  it  and  move  along  with  the  steady-going 
machinery.  And  there's  another  thing,  Marie, 
dear,  which  I  should  have  taken  into  the  account 
before " 

The  young  man  is  sitting  now  close  beside  his 
wife,  bending  over  the  sleeping  baby  in  her  arms. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  she  asks  in  a  tone  of  interest. 

"  It  didn't  strike  me  as  it  has  done  in  the  last 
few  weeks ;  but  I  can  see  that  father's  health  is 
failing.  He's  getting  on  in  years,  and  the  strain 
of  the  business  is  becoming  too  great.  It  was  a 
great  loss  to  him  when  poor  Hargrove  died. 
He'd  been  in  the  factory  for  ten  or  fifteen  years, 
and  knew  the  run  of  everything.  His  death 
was  a  great  shock  to  father.  You  know  he  took 
to  drinking,  and  that  killed  him." 

Marie's  only  response  is  an  involuntary,  half 
repressed  sigh. 

"  I  ought  to  have  seen   this  before,  and  taken 


CONCLUSION.  435 

hold  with  father  in  downright  earnest,  as  I'm 
going  to  do  now." 

Since  the  reader's  first  introduction  to  Frank 
Sylvester,  he  has  changed  considerably.  For  a 
long  time  this  change  was  for  the  worse,  the 
lower  animal  nature  of  the  young  man,  stimu 
lated  by  drink,  ruling  in  his  life  and  steadily  de 
basing  him.  Against  this  debasement  he  strug 
gled  feebly ;  sometimes  with  partial  success,  but 
with  a  downward  drift  more  rapid  in  its  move 
ment  after  every  brief  checking  of  the  current 
that  seeming  bearing  him  to  certain  ruin.  He 
had  no  strength  of  resistance  in  the  face  of  temp 
tation.  Knowing  his  weakness,  he  would  endea 
vor  to  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  enticement,  and  so 
stand  firm  for  awhile.  But  with  twenty  or  more 
saloons  in  Brantly,  and  the  proffered  wine  cup 
in  the  hands  of  many  friends  and  neighbors, 
what  chance  was  there  for  one  so  weak  ?  Hardly 
the  ghost  of  a  chance.  Falling  and  rising,  and 
with  every  new  fall  the  struggle  up  more  diffi 
cult,  and  the  footing  less  secure. 


436  THE    BAR-ROOMS   AT   BRANTLY. 

What  a  change  in  aspect  and  character  a 
single  year  of  freedom  from  drink  has  wrought 
in  this  young  man.  You  note  it  in  the  fair  and 
healthy  skin,  and  in  the  clear  bright  eyes  and 
more  flexible  mouth,  and  in  the  erect  and  earn 
est  bearing.  And  now,  as  you  hear  him  say — 
"  I  ought  to  have  seen  this  before,  and  taken 
hold  with  father  in  downright  earnest,  as  I'm 
going  to  do '' 

Your  hand  moves  to  grasp  his  hand,  and  words 
of  cheer  are  trembling  on  your  lips. 

"  I'm  glad  you  feel  so,"  Marie  answers,  softly, 
as  she  looks  into  his  face  with  a  new  expression 
in  her  eyes,  which  Frank  is  quick  to  interpret. 
Pride  is  blending  with  love.  She  is  feeling  the 
stronger  pulse-beat  of  his  manlier  life,  and  her 
own  heart  is  giving  back  stroke  for  stroke. 

Tea  is  over ;  the  babies  are  in  bed,  and  Frank 
Sylvester  and  his  wife  are  sitting  alone  in  their 
bright  little  parlor.  Marie  is  sewing,  while  her 
husband  reads  aloud. 

"Why,  mother!"     The  door  has  opened,  and 


CONCLUSION.  437 

Marie  is  on  her  feet.  "I'm  so  glad  you've  come 
'round."  She  puts  her  arms  about  her  mother, 
and  lays  her  face  down  upon  her  bosom  for  a 
moment  or  two,  and  then  looks  up  into  Mrs. 
Lyman's  dear,  sweet  face,  with  eyes  that  are 
brimful  of  tears.  There  are  answering  tears  in 
the  mother's  tender  eyes ;  and  rainbows  in  the 
vision  of  both. 

Drop  the  curtain.  In  all  Brantly,  there  is  not, 
to-night,  a  more  beautiful  or  touching  tableau 
than  this. 


THE   END. 


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